Treachery
by hippiechick2112
Summary: Part two of "Her Second Chance", narrated by Colonel Michalovich. When the tunnels are breached and a new temporary Kommandant challenges the prisoners, Colonel Hogan must think of a way to save his operation.
1. August 5, 1943

**Her Second Chance: Treachery**

**Note and Disclaimer:**** Again, I don't own the characters to ****Hogan's Heroes**** nor do I own any of the songs I have posted. I would like to thank those who have created this series and those who have written these great songs. However, the character I have created, Colonel Michalovich, belongs to me, so if you want to use her, please email me with permission.**

**Again, I am continuing the story of Nikola Michalovich, so if you haven't read the first story, please do so before reading this on. For all who have read the first, remember: in the past, the Colonel has escaped humiliation, destroyed the rocket base and risen above her problems, for the most part. She's, all and all, almost happy and satisfied with her life at Stalag 13 and has accepted some of things that have happened in the past months of war and before then. What more can she ask for?**

* * *

**Journal of Colonel Nikola Anna Michalovich, U.S. Army: LC8547960  
****August 5, 1943  
****Hammelburg, Germany: Luftstalag 13, the Barracks – 1435 Hours**

_Well I never thought I'd make it here to Hollywood  
I'd never thought I'd ever want to stay  
But I seem to touch these days that turn to gold  
What I seem to want, well, you know I'll find a way_

_For me, it's the only life that I've ever known  
Love is only one fine star away  
Even though the living is sometimes laced with lies – it's alright  
The feeling remains even after the glitters fade…_

Is this what I can come up with after so many months of captivity and empty unfeeling? These are the first lines I can come up with after dealing with all this anger and frustration? I'm longing for home in Bridgeport today. Hollywood? I've only been there once with Rob, when we went there as Desertstar. It was one of those nights the Generals had the decency to join the enlisted personal and the other "low life" of the army they considered despicable. They danced their hearts out with their extras, or, rare is the time, their wives, who came and watched them instead of waltzing to the music. Besides, why go to Hollywood when Bridgeport is still waiting for me and Rob to come back to?

Home is home and this place I'm in now can't possibly what I can say is _home_. It seems too fleeting and hopefully, we'll be out of there soon. But, instead of feeling as if this were the place where prisoners live, it's full of the people I _want_ to be with. And yet, I am still at said camp, called Stalag 13 and not at my nightmare of Auschwitz, or even stateside, which was offered to me and declined with my conscience nagging at me. And I didn't mention to Rob about that yet. He would have yelled at me to take the chance, to leave, but he couldn't understand why.

From the beginnings of the war, my life has been an adventure and many people have joined me on this tour. The Fate of so many people I've known, during this journey from there to hell and then here, has been felt in my hands, even to this day. My mentor, G-d rest her soul, Major Nancy Donovan-White, has been executed in active duty by the Gestapo, location unknown, May 4, 1943. My mother, Victoria Marie Hozellenan, had been murdered by General Frederick Albert Hozellenan of the Russian Front, May 14, 1943; the latter was killed in an explosion later that evening. My eldest stepbrother, George Manfred von Rumey was killed by Major Hochstetter on the evening of May 6, 1943; my other stepbrothers, Werner Lothar and Kurt Martin von Rumey were killed in an explosion at the rocket base London wanted destroyed, June 19, 1943. All of those deaths were within a space of a month and a half and have hit me with such force that I still feel it today.

Yet, there are still others close to me that are still alive. My Father, now Soviet General Peter Alexis Michalovich of the Soviet Air Force (and possibly head of their Underground units as well, as far as I've figured) has been safely sent back to Russia and is still working on unknown activities. My partner, Colonel Robert E. Hogan (always Rob to me) is alive and well and still head of the operations underground here at Stalag 13. His main crew of men, Corporal Louis LeBeau, Staff Sergeant James Kinchloe, Corporal Peter Newkirk and Sergeant Andrew Carter, are also alive and deep into operations here as well. I am so grateful to all of them for everything that they have done for me. I wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for all of them.

It was Rob's crew of four that presented this journal for my birthday last month, which I purposely hadn't told anyone of with much reason. Luckily for me, and with much gratitude, the day was spent concentrating on our mission in Paris and getting those plans from the Kraut Generals' dinner. It was only _after_ our mission to Paris, which I attended with Kinchloe (Kinch to everyone), LeBeau (the last minute guide and French patriot) and Rob that Rob quietly mentioned the day to his men, in which case, I nearly killed him for. I mean, I had men coming up to me and saying, "Happy birthday, Miss Saucy Tongue!" Why mention something as small as that in the middle of a prison camp in the middle of a serious war? And worse, why use my _nickname_?

Rob's answer: "Well, Nikki, why not boost morale? I mean, come on. Do you want to let these poor, powerless men down?" We were arguing in the doorway of his quarters and all of the men were listening with ears full of gossip. I looked from Rob in the doorway of his quarters to the men outside his room, who, all purposely, on Rob's signal, gave me sad puppy dog faces. It was so funny I had to laugh: grown men giving me whiny faces like little children!

I consented, but asked that it be a small party because I've had enough of the big parties and explosions of happiness – there are people suffering out there in this war – and I had a headache that day that could have intensified with loud festivities. Naturally, instead of what I inquired, the party turned out to be bigger and louder than I thought it was going to be. Indeed, I had to endure a larger headache later in the evening, staying up most of the night nursing it.

I mean, it was at night with over fifty men asking me to dance to some music Kinch grabbed from the tunnels (the collection was large and some Kraut guards were suspicious as to where it all came from because none of it came in packages), plus Schultz, our guard, pestering me for food and a dance! This doesn't include the glorious food LeBeau cooked, our Kommandant Wilhelm Klink yelling at us about how we were disrupting him while he was working on important papers from Berlin and Major Hochstetter and the Gestapo breaking up the merrymaking upon their arrival with a radio transmitter. Apparently, they had found some radio messages from London in the area and wanted to catch us red-handed, as Hochstetter is very persistent in his searches, especially here. _Oy vey!_

During the party, before all the festivities ceased on the orders of the Gestapo, the men presented me with this gift of a journal, which of course I am writing in now. It was leather bound (rare to find) and had many, many pages of paper in it (Kinch must have sacrificed most of it from the radio room because most resemble his blue stationery). I could add paper to this edition and could take out anything, especially those pieces I don't want the Gestapo to see. Each edition or chunk can be stored away as I have been known to write too much.

Anyway, the party was broken up by Hochstetter, who had come on business with Klink. The radio transmitter said it all, though ("Klink, what is going on here? What are these prisoners doing?"). Here afterward, we were all confined to the barracks on the orders of Major Hochstetter because a party was against prisoner of war rules and Klink should have stopped it. Of course, Rob got Klink out of trouble by saying that when Klink was yelling in the doorway, he was breaking up our party and that he didn't know about it in the first place. And this made Hochstetter angrier, hence the order of confinement to the barracks. Our supply of food was pretty low, especially after the party because the Gestapo guards overturned the tables of food, which created a fury of rage in LeBeau that Rob ordered Kinch, Carter and Newkirk hold him back before he was shot and killed. Schultz couldn't go out to get supplies because that too was against regulations. We couldn't go out down to the tunnels for supplies for we were being watched closely by the Gestapo (it doesn't include the radio transmitter they installed here). There was also a guard in the barracks all hours of the day and night. They were always armed and having roll call at least eight times a day. It doesn't count the three at night plus the harassing bedchecks _I've_ had.

One night, I went out of my mind when I saw that a Gestapo guard snuck into Rob's quarters and had come into my bed (I still call it Rob's quarters because Klink hasn't seen able to find a decent room for me, for if he did, he'd have to double up barracks and I don't want a hut to myself or any men complaining about how they had to move for my benefit). He was silent and pointed a gun at my head, just to keep me quiet. He then took out something and gagged with that something – a large handkerchief. The guard then shoved me down my bunk and put his gun down. I somehow managed to get him off of me (I still don't know how, I was struggling so hard) and screamed for bloody hell, muffled, through the handkerchief.

Rob jumped off his bunk immediately (he thought I was having another nightmare) and said in his drowsy voice as he turned the lights on, "Nikki, what the hell is wrong _now_?" When he saw the guard with the lights on, however, everything started to change. Rob pulled me immediately from the bunk to the other side of the room and untied the gag as the men (Rob's crew of four and some random groaning men in their bunks behind them) opened the door and came in and asked what was wrong _this_ time. The scene before them explained all and before I knew it, Kinch had knocked the German guard out temporarily.

Afterward, Newkirk, Kinch, LeBeau and Carter had to watch me as Rob went to complain in Klink's quarters. After Rob tried to get out of the barracks, however, the guard ran behind him with a gun to his back, his unconscious state gone (Kinch thought he hit him hard enough). He threatened in German that one wrong move and that he was a dead prisoner (we learned later that this was a setup between the guards and Hochstetter). Of course, with security tight because of our lovely Major Hochstetter, Rob was almost shot as he exited the barracks to go to Klink's office even with the sentry holding him hostage.

From Rob's lodgings, I heard shooting and Rob yelling about surrendering. He hit the ground, knocking over a barrel of water and it just _happened_ to be the one with the periscope (it was underground and covered so the barrel only rolled and the water splashed out). Only Schultz, who was on duty and stopping those trigger happy Gestapo monsters (thank G-d), was able to get him to Klink's office and back to the barracks afterward without any more trouble. The guard was, meanwhile, accidentally shot but not dead (it serves that bastard right). Rob, meanwhile, was not hurt. He was there, in Klink's quarters, for over two hours and has had no luck in getting that guard apprehended, of which by that time, he was taken to a hospital.

"Are you all right?" Rob asked me as soon as he came back. I was so scared that I could only nod. I was sitting at his desk and was too frightened to move while the men surrounded me. It was more than just the usual crew of four for many men from our barracks were angry about this and armed themselves with whatever we prisoners could have (mostly pots and pans, although Jerkins, LeBeau's assistant, had taken an old piece of wood out of our stove, burnt as it was at the ends).

Newkirk was behind me at that time, holding a blanket over my shoulders and rubbing them even as I winced with each roll to my right. The others, who sat silently at my bunk and around the quarters, could only stare out with anger in their eyes and murder in their minds. "I don't think the gov'ness has 'ad the final 'ord yet," Newkirk said, rubbing my shoulders still.

Indeed, I had not. This was not the end of it, either.

And of course, the Gestapo denied everything even as Rob complained, through Klink of course, that it violates the Geneva Convention and all moral standards secularly and religiously (I could personally care less about that but that it _stops_). When I started to formally criticize this inhumane practice to Klink the day after it happened with Rob rightfully behind me on this (he was complaining about it before and called me in to testify), however, Hochstetter became angry, as he heard it through the grapevine. He ordered that Rob and I be put in solitary confinement for two days, no food, water or anything…in separate cells.

I was so worried about Rob, because I knew about Gestapo tortures all too well, that I cried on the first day, which I don't usually do. It was Schultz (ever the humanitarian) that saved the both of us again. He guarded us and our barracks that time. And that first day, he saw my tears as he checked on me that evening and said, "Colonel, ANY-THING you want, I get." I was jumping for joy. Schultz saved the day again!

It was only Schultz that snuck us food, water and a (only one) piece of paper to message each other on the last day of confinement because I asked him. It was my only request other than water and food, as he offered more but I declined.

I was the first to write to Rob, and I didn't know what I could write without it being twisted by the Gestapo if it landed in the wrong hands. I thought for a while until I figured out what I could say (I mean, anything can be perverted by the Gestapo, so if Hochstetter saw this, let him fiddle with it as if it's a code): _If anyone falls in love, it would be done to us. If anyone falls in love somewhere, twilight, dreamtime, somewhere in the back of your mind_.

Rob's reply was immediate and Schultz brought to me as soon as he could (I heard an exchange with Hochstetter outside of my cell and Schultz kept his secrets well). _And I never known the words, but I have tried to be true. I have never known what to say, how to say it, seen anything today…I've never seen anything like you_.

After those two days, Klink had us confined to quarters for the remainder of the day for Hochstetter was still around and a thorn in our sides. By the end of the day, Hochstetter had left with his radio transmitter, although it didn't find anything, much to Hochstetter's dismay and disappointment (I guess the promotion isn't coming in soon enough). It was dismantled at the camp even.

The threat was gone for a while. I knew that Hochstetter will be back, however, and very shortly. It was just a matter of time.

This has been what I've had to deal with as of late. In between running on those missions for London and the Underground, I am drained and running on nothing but my own stubborn determination to survive in Nazi Germany. I've had no time to write anything for the month since I've had this journal because I've been empty of words. I can't even think about all of this and all I do is concentrate on the bugs around the camp and the happenings of the Kraut army (one and the same thing). After all this and so many narrow escapes from Hochstetter, I deserve this rest.

Alas, there is never any rest for the weary. And so it goes onward, such as yesterday.


	2. No Rest for the Weary?

Yesterday, I marked the three month anniversary of Nancy's death. As of yet, I still have no clue where she was shot or where she is buried. Even if Rob knew, he wouldn't tell me, no matter how much I plead, beg and bribe him. Even his crew knew anything about this, they wouldn't tell me. They stand by the Colonel's decisions, not that I blame them or anything. I would too, if I had such an order. No matter how much I beg, if I were in their shoes, I'd stay on orders, no matter if the counter order was to tell the secret.

I still haven't told Rob of Auschwitz yet because all that would bring back was Nancy protecting me, Father in solitary confinement and even all those who never made it through. The times it's been mentioned, I shudder and never speak a word for hours. And some men are anxious to hear anything. With Rob, he needs to hear it all and he sympathetically pats my shoulder when I can't speak. In other cases, he is impatient and insensitive to my plight. He said, on the topic last week, "Nikki, when you feel the need to talk, talk." How could I though? He'll never understand.

Anyhow, I was walking along the fenceline, as close I can possibly go, and was looking for some clue as to where she might be buried. I'd take anything, some indication that a grave was dug: a body or skeleton, anything! I had to pay my respects to her, no matter where she may be. She saved my ass. She deserves to be brought home and buried under army traditions insofar as it decrees.

Well as I walked, I had forgotten that, since the party and the night with the Gestapo, the guards have been doubled and some new insolent children guards have been posted here. Said children have been trigger happy, as it were. They were the monsters who shoot to kill and prefer to gain promotions through it.

So, I was walking alongside the enclosure when suddenly, an alarm was raised by the children because I was around the fence! For all the stupid things in this war, this had to be it! Dogs were released and the kids started shooting in my general direction as one pointed to the other and ordered me to be shot. I went down to the ground immediately and put my hands to my head, scared beyond belief, only wishing that I'd be out of it alive or shot in the head to end my misery.

I screamed in German and then in English in my hysteria, "I give up, I surrender! Stop shooting!" This didn't stop the shooting, though.

Lifting my head slightly, as I had given up hope, I saw Schultz started running (well, walking quickly – waddling?) towards me and waving his arms, screaming, "False alarm, false alarm! No shooting!" Nobody listened to the Sergeant and by the time Kommandant Klink came out from his office, there was too much pandemonium to control. Somebody even shot a bullet through Klink's hat, but still the Kommandant went on. What a brave soul he is to do so (ha, ha).

Somehow, when Klink came in front of the fire (of which he was hesitant to be in front of anyway, coward that he is), everything stopped. Soon, we all heard him yelling over the children's counter arguments in defending their actions. He ceased his ranting just as they did. Then, after a while, there was silence and then Klink yelled, "Schultz, what is the meaning of this? Was this prisoner really trying to escape? Nobody escapes from –"

Another stray bullet, a leftover from somebody (I couldn't tell who), flew past Klink, who ducked quickly, hit the ground and covered his head. Klink then got up from his panic attack and went to pick up his hat, which was lying misplaced on the ground.

I stood up and started to stammer (I was that frightened still and as fearful as Carter is sometimes), "K-Kommandant, I was just t-t-trying –"

Klink interrupted me. "I've had enough of this nonsense, Colonel! For this, your privileges are provoked for this week and your white bread ration cut in half. Dismissed!" He saluted me and left for his office with his hat in his hands, his finger going through the hole. I never bothered to salute back because I didn't think Klink deserved that much respect at that particular hour.

The other guards, meanwhile, snickered at Schultz, who had the responsibility of watching me and wasn't. They left for their posts again.

I was more discouraged than ever. I was never going to get this done, no matter if I follow the rules of the camp or not. What the hell?

Schultz saw my sorry face as the guards left us, but he asked me, "Colonel Michalovich, what are you TRY-ING to do? You could have gotten KILL-ED!"

"Just never you mind, Schultz…just never mind. Just leave…me…alone," I said sadly. I turned around walked in the direction of Barracks 19 instead, my frequent hiding place from everybody. Well, not exactly. The men in the barracks have welcomed me to come whenever I wanted to and to hide out if I needed to, usually the camp medic Wilson, who is friends with those in the barracks (I believe he himself is in the Barracks 14 but hangs around 19 because his friends are there and 14 has been known to be a roughhouse, at night especially).

Rob usually finds me there and has to sometimes drag me back because of those times I have felt guilt and shame for what happened. In those times, I feel like everything is hopeless and somehow, someway, something will happen to Rob and the others. There were times that it almost had. Sometimes I just need to curl up in a ball and rock back and forth. Rob has been trying to get me to stop that habit, but I have been more nervous than ever lately because of Hochstetter. I am confident in this operation. At the same time, however, I have a paranoid tendency, in the back of my mind, to think of failure. That is one of my faults and I will admit it freely.

All right, so my white bread rations and privileges are cut for the week. No matter, I have lived off of nothing or next to nothing before. Those four or five months of spending in Auschwitz made me almost practiced and ready for any punishment because I have had them all, no matter how small a mistake I had made. I have men complaining about the cooler and the rotten food here, not counting what LeBeau makes three times daily to create a civilized camp. At least they have a roof over their heads and something to eat! I've seen people hanging from the electric fences, die of every disease, see others hang at the gallows, shot at the Black Wall and at the factory and even tortured by being hung by their thumbs and burned to death. I can't moan about something like a lack of privileges and white bread for a week. _Please!_

Wilson, the camp medic, met me by the back of Barracks 19, as per usual when he sees that I want to be alone. "Are you all right, Colonel? Do you need to be alone?" he asked. I nodded my head, still amazed that he wasn't at all pompous about his position here.

I said in return, "Make an excuse for me to Colonel Hogan if he comes looking for me, please. I don't know, just say I'm busy. And that's not an order. Just make sure to stall him if _he_ gives one." Wilson left laughing. Before I knew it, he was whispering to some other prisoners about the irony in this statement and left on his merry way, probably trying to stall Rob. I'll say this though: I love Rob with all of my heart, I truly do. On the other hand, I have to carry the burdens of the past with me. He doesn't need to worry more about me and where I've been. I have friends to talk to when I needed it. But a lot of other times, I need to battle my demons alone.

Finally in the back of the barracks, I was alone to concentrate on my thoughts. I faced myself towards the fenceline again. I fixated myself on that stormy day, when I tried to say goodbye to Nancy, to say _anything _to her, grab her and run away from Hochstetter, _something_! I was trying to get to her and Hochstetter and his guards were pushing me away. _She said: "Tell them that I loved…"_

I awoke from this image that will never leave my mind, no matter how much time will elapse since then. I started to cry quietly and sing a song to myself, the one that Nancy had loved me singing with my solo guitar:

"_Did it take long to find me?" I asked the faithful light  
"Did it take long to find me? And are you gonna stay the night?"_

I was still in a daze when suddenly, I felt someone touch my arm. I must have jumped a mile when the person grabbed me and swiveled me around. I was struggling because I thought it was another guard trying to seize me, but until I saw a bomber jacket I ceased my fighting…Rob. _Dammit!_

"Nikki, what the hell are you doing here? I've been looking for you for hours now!" Rob was yelling at me like the child I was acting like. I inclined my head downwards and stared at the ground, just like a youngster caught with its hand in the jar, wiping the tears out of my eyes even.

"Wilson…" I began, but Rob jerked my head back up with his hand by my chin and said sarcastically, "It's nice to be commanding officer here, you know."

I didn't say anything. I was that ashamed of what I've done: to act upon my selfish feelings and not look around me to see what was going on around the camp and especially Klink. But I knew that Rob had something else he wanted to tell me. He pulled his hand away from my chin and glanced around for any guards, especially those children who like to nose around. I knew that he hated them as much as the next person here, even Klink. But that was all the Third Reich could send to Klink when he asked for more guards after our party…all in thanks to Hochstetter ("Beggars can't be choosers," Klink said when we listened to him via our coffee pot, as he talked to Schultz about the choices of guards).

Then, Rob took a paper from his jacket when he saw that we didn't have anyone watching us. He pulled himself closer to me, as if he wanted to have a private moment with me, but whispered this instead: "We had had the chance to get down into the tunnels today. Kinch was the one who went down. Kinch just barely received a message from London first thing, very urgent. He said that the equipment was giving him a hard time." Rob paused. "Kinch is also trying getting the rest of it, but the reception is very weak. He's upset for some reason and wouldn't let me down into the tunnel, even on a direct order." I took the paper from his hands, which could be mistaken for putting my hand in his, and read it, translating the code as I read it:

_Urgent, priority one: double cause in the area, grabbing agents, told to be a German guard from the Gestapo. He has been around bridge that needs bombing. Demise him on location, ammo truck and bridge before he strikes again_.

I crumpled up the paper and stuck it in my uniform's front pocket promptly. Rob might have read the note too for he said as he moved closer, "That has to be this week. That new ammo is scheduled to cross sometime in the next few days. We get the bridge and the ammo plus the agent, whoever he or she is."

I nodded my head and asked, whispering in his ear, "What does London need in order to get the job done?"

"Hold it, hold it," Rob said, pushing me back as if I was troubling him. "Let's get the rest of the message first. London did say that they're going to bomb the ammo dump they're getting the supplies from. Then –"

Rob was interrupted by Newkirk, who came running behind him, out of breath, from the direction of our barracks. "Gov'nor, gov'nor, Kinch 'eeds you…he…" He collapsed from running. I kneeled down quickly to help him calm down and breathe again, but this new message just sent an already tense and frustrated Rob running for our barracks. This was probably the reason why he wasn't allowed down there.

And since then, Rob has been down there, with the exception of the numerous roll calls we've had lately, in which someone would call the duo up. They could come up, be counted and head right back down again. Rob and Kinch have even spent the night down there in the tunnels which, thankfully, the Krauts haven't found yet. LeBeau has been calling down to him the number of bedchecks and extra roll calls we're going to have as they work away (not to mention, sending some food down). I have been nervously writing, and now it's been quite a long time, four hours of writing. And still I wonder: _What is going on? What does London want done in order for this mission to be successful?_

I am still waiting for answers. LeBeau continues to cook and call down the bedchecks and roll calls (bribing Schultz has never been easier). Newkirk tries to go under to see what's going on but is always ordered back up. Carter just sits on his bunk, carving something out of wood with a knife. Newkirk has been unsuccessful at obtaining answers, Carter has been calmer and quieter and LeBeau still listens to complaints about the food. And here I am trying to write as calmly as possibly. It's very hard to when there is a mysterious mission going on and an equally reluctant radioman down there.

Oops, Rob just came up and he's upset. He's holding some radio parts and wires, so why in holy heavens is he doing…?


	3. Security Breach

**August 6  
****The Tunnels – 0530 Hours**

It is nearly time for roll call (another half hour, maybe, if I'm lucky, an hour) and here I am, standing guard in these tunnels while Kinch is fixing our radio, now crushed and destroyed because of an intruder. Rob was just about ready to call for an all-out mass escape, but London needs this mission done so this is a wait-and-see situation, so to speak. That's what made Rob decide that we stay, except in the case that the Gestapo finds us and the tunnel system, that is.

Oh, did I fail to mention that I'm guarding these tunnels because we've had a security breach? Yes, we've had an intruder come down into the tunnels. All the time that Rob was down here, he was searching for our visitor while Kinch was trying to find our spare radio parts, which are missing. The radio has been smashed to bits and it can barely get a message across except for the last faded one (that was the same one we received about the bridge, agent and ammo truck and the urgent need to destroy all of them). All that was found, while Kinch was down in the tunnels with Rob, was that broken radio with the smallest reception (now dead), some muddy footprints, a torn piece of cloth from a German uniform by one of the torches (I believe it was under Barracks 12) and some stolen materials, mostly wood, paper, some of our counterfeit money and such. Kinch thinks our intruder ran off with the spare parts for the radio too because he can't find them _anywhere_.

It is no wonder that Kinch wouldn't let Rob down in the tunnels for a while. He had to make sure everything was what he thought it was before he could sound the alarm. _Dammit!_

All and all, this has to be a cautious affair. "We have to play by ear," Rob said as he came up with the destroyed radio parts. "If we suspect Gestapo having a hand in this, then we have to go. Otherwise, we stand by our post, fix the radio and wait for more orders from London. They're counting on us to destroy this bridge before that ammo reaches the other side. Preferably, they want us to get the bridge and the ammo truck _plus_ that agent."

I was so frightened when Rob came up with those broken radio parts. Every prisoner in the barracks was shocked and was shouting for an explanation. "If you fellows shut up, you'll get it!" Rob said. The yelling continued anyway. Rob just sighed and shook his head. Kinch had popped himself up from below. He made sure that the bunk was closed and settled at the table where LeBeau had some coffee ready. Rob also made sure that the bunk was securely closed before he too sat down to some coffee. I'm still wondering how he can stay so calm in situations like this, although I think he had a headache the way he was rubbing his forehead, to the point where I could almost _feel_ it. He then yelled for silence again. Finally, the shouting stopped and Rob looked up to speak his peace.

"Listen, fellows and Colonel," Rob started, "our tunnels have been breached and our radio destroyed. We can't reach London anymore –" Here, Rob was interrupted by more noise.

"Hold it, hold it!" Rob yelled back. "We have some things we need to do before we figure out whether to escape or not."

Rob sighed. "First of all, we don't know what we're up against. This could be a trap, some Underground agent or even some youngster that found this and didn't know how much worth it is until he told somebody about it – _if_ he even bothered to. We're going to blow up the tunnels and break out if this happens to be anybody German or Gestapo, and _that's a direct order_. We can't afford being in front of a firing squad. It doesn't help London."

Everybody seemed to have held their breath when Rob added, "Otherwise, I'm asking that anybody take turns watching underground until we know what's out there. This would be in shifts, starting now and continuing after 2330 hours tonight after our scheduled bed check from the Kommandant. Afterward, the next group comes down at 0600 after roll call, come off at 1200 after roll call and lunch, 1830 after dinner, 2330 after usual bedcheck and so on. LeBeau, you'll be in charge of getting this information from Schultz about any extra bed checks and roll calls."

"Oui, Kommandant." The room was in total silence. I could feel the nervousness from the other men in the room.

"Furthermore," Rob continued, "we need others to keep track of the guards and the new positions and changing of the guard, just in case somebody from the new group of guards discovered the stump. Newkirk, you and Carter will be in charge of that. Watch the changing of the guard everyday and make sure to create diversions at the camp if necessary, preferably chaos. Take anybody with you to achieve that, but watch out for those trigger happy kids."

"Yes, Colonel" was all that echoed in the room. So, even the boyish Carter and the usually poppy Newkirk were just as worried about this as the rest of us are. I noticed that Carter was still sitting at his bunk, gripping whatever he was making (I couldn't tell what it was). His knuckles were turning white from gripping whatever it was that he was making. Newkirk was above Carter in his bunk, tense.

The situation still wasn't made any less serious and the planning didn't make me or even Rob, from the looks of it, any less edgy. Rob still talked about what he wanted done, biting his lip as he went on. I'm usually the person who notices that because I've known him too long. He always did that when he was feeling we were in trouble.

Rob was motionless, in serious thought still. "The Krauts might know about the emergency exit, so we have to have it guarded or blown up, again depending on our situation. We might be lucky. The Gestapo might not even know about this place yet or Hochstetter and his gang would have been here by now. In this week's case, I think we're out of harm's way." I shuddered at the mention of Hochstetter, our Hangman of the Stalags. I hated him with a passion and feared him even more than my hatred.

Rob continued. "According to Kinch, London also said last night and today even, before the radio died, that they have a double agent so we have to meet him _or her_. This person might be the one who has been visiting us, unnoticed, so they're sending this person they suspect to convene with us. That's why they said to get the agent." Rob paused. "This may also explain why the tunnels have been breached and not discovered by the Krauts yet. This could be the double agent. He or she might not have gotten anything valuable out to someone yet." Rob was now looking at me sharply. _Even females can be spies_ his eyes were saying.

Carter, who had been sitting on his bunk, finally dropped his woodwork. It hit the floor with a satisfying _clank_. "Colonel, how are we going to blow up that bridge? I have some good explosives that can take care of that, but the guards and Gestapo are e-everywhere. They'd take it right back to us!"

If this wasn't so serious, I'd laugh. This was one of those moments that Carter was saying something intelligent and not acting like an idiot. It was more amusing when Newkirk came out of his trance and glared down at Carter, indecisive about whether to hit him in the head or pat him on the back for this apparent and most obvious comment.

Rob rose up from his seat and went over to where Carter was. He sat down next to him and put his arm around the Sergeant's shoulder, answering, "Carter, we're still going to blow up that bridge and its ammo and apprehend our fabulous agent. Like I said, all we need is a few distractions, some spying and a few sneaky prisoners of war to pull it off. And Klink doesn't even need to know about those who have escaped…for a while."

Many around the room groaned for it sounded like another impossible mission from Colonel Hogan, the master of all strange and unusual plans. Rob saw this and got up from Carter's bunk. He only resumed his position at the table, except standing next to his seat, and said, "Oh, I see that I already have some eager volunteers to watch the tunnels with Kinch." He moved towards the tunnel's entranceway at the bunk. "Well? Volunteers only. Remember, I don't order them."

Those who groaned about the impending mission moved with unease in their places, equally worried that _they'd_ be chosen for this assignment if they said another word. There were no volunteers still and Rob had no excuse to choose someone as none opened their mouths. Then, I suddenly had some crazy idea and I knew that Rob wasn't going to like it for many reasons. I gazed around the room murmuring, my big dumb mouth to be thanked and my idea be damned, "I'll do it."

Rob faced me and I could tell that he's surprised that I alone would volunteer for this sort of duty. Sure, I go on missions, but only as a female role. I have never taken up the role of commander and sentinel before. This is dangerous. Our intruder could come back with more than himself (or her) and bring the Gestapo. I could be used. Worse, I could be killed on the spot and my friends be shot as spies later after they're tortured for information, false or not. I'm taking the risk to safeguard and stall any one of them, anyhow. With my temper, anything can go. However, nothing is going to change my mind, stupid as it is.

I gave Rob my most defiant look, the one that always made him laugh for it made me "come across saucy" (Rob's words, not mine). He faced me about ready to laugh, but instead said in a serious tone (and his face trying to keep straight), "All right, Colonel. Be careful. Kinch will be down there with you. When you inspect the tunnels, bring a team, not just two or three people. And make sure you call for a team ahead of time. Don't go anywhere in the tunnels, especially alone. That's an order." I heard a sigh escape his lips. "Remember, you'll be relieved at 0600 hours with the next group."

Rob went around to our stove and pulled out a handgun from its hiding spot from a bucket covered with some fake logs. He handed it to me. "Make sure you know how to use it. Don't hesitate to when there's Gestapo. And don't try to be heroic, either." Making sure that there are no guards, Rob herded me and then Kinch down the tunnel. Kinch was all-in and he asked LeBeau to bring down a pot of coffee. _I might as well grab some, too. I might need it later._

After I started down the ladder, Rob called after me, "And make sure to have the tunnels blown up if the Gestapo happen to be in armies. The explosives are set to blow anytime if Carter gets to it." I saluted (sort of, but with busy hands, it was hard) and continued my way down to the tunnels. Afterward I heard Rob yell at Carter, "Make sure those explosives are set at the entrance!" He sounded very angry. His attitude was unique in this situation and well-noted by me and the men.

~00~

I'll say this though: the night has been quiet and there has been nothing. My neck, which has always warns me of disaster and impending danger (might I add I usually ignore it?), has not been bothering me all night. This is a good sign and I have no denial about it. Kinch, in between searching for any miracle radio parts, has been checking on me. His gun is always in hand and every noise he has investigated. I am grateful that he is around to protect me in case of danger. He even called the team down for me to check the tunnels. All six men, who have not split far from each other as was ordered, have found nothing.

I personally cannot say that there is nothing out there. I mean, would these men _believe_ that, if my neck troubles me, that there is someone out there and ready to point their deadly weapons at them? Would they ignore me and just go their own way? I don't know. I don't even know if Rob will ever listen to me, either.

Kinch just said he has found enough junk around here to fix the radio. They're not exactly radio parts, but enough pieces of other machines to fix the radio, so I better move aside so that he can get this done. Afterward, there's going to be _a lot_ of transmitting to our Headquarters in London for this mission. And then, I might consider some sleep.

~00~

_The loneliness of a one night stand is hard to take  
__We all chase something and maybe this is a dream  
__The timeless face of a lone woman while her heart breaks  
__Oh, you know the dream keeps coming even when you forget to feel  
__For me, it's the only life that I've ever known and love is long one, fine star away  
__Even though the living is sometimes laced with lies – it's all right  
__The feeling remains even after the glitter fades_

It is past 0600 hours now and nobody has called me up yet. Wait…Newkirk just bellowed for roll call. I'm now relieved from duty. He, LeBeau, Carter and Private Kearns will take over after roll call. My next hope is that Klink won't be inspecting the barracks today or surprise us with something worse later. Kinch is down there and I don't want to get the men to create a diversion as we get him up here. Klink could become more suspicious than Schultz when it comes to such things as insane detractions. On the other hand, it can sometimes be hilarious as he doesn't suspect a thing.


	4. Mad Scrambles to Get Things Done

**August 9  
****The Tunnels – 0125 Hours Thereabouts**

These past few days have been eventful, indeed. I guess this is the best news, but we have found out who had been bothering us. Our culprit, a real Gestapo agent/child, has been trashing the tunnels and has been, in reality, looking for me, as Rob and the others believe. In truth, and it scares me now, I think it is really my nephew Jozef, George's teen-aged son. I recognize the face. He is the same person who is responsible for shooting and capturing me.

I feel very bitter this night. I can't write and I am too tired to explain. Rob's around, I should talk to him, but I can't. I need some time to be alone and to gather my thoughts. I wonder if the guards are on extra alert tonight. They shouldn't be. However, one never knows with those little monsters outside.

I can't take this anymore. I'm taking a walk outside in the woods. It's too much to handle at this point. Damn, we are in deep trouble tonight. As Newkirk would say, we are in a sticky wicket.

**Later – Early Morning  
****The Tunnels – 0210 Hours**

I think I've calmed down enough to write. That walk really helped (luckily for me, the guards' watch wasn't so heavy tonight and the Gestapo patrols minimal, a first in a long time). I've stopped shaking from all this commotion. I have to stop to think of the positive side of the situation. Our intruder is safely in our control and he is not going to wake up for a long, long time. I have made sure of that. However, on the negative side, it is still impossible to believe that my nephew, a Gestapo agent and might I mention, only sixteen years old, is our intruder and double agent. Well, let me start from the beginning of that insane day and the mission because I know it doesn't help to just jump right on in with who came in. It all started (ha, ha) after roll call and being released from my shift in the tunnel at 0600 hours.

Rob was developing a plan on how to blow up the bridge. Since he had ordered that everyone be watching the barracks and the tunnels, he had fallen short of who he was going to bring on this mission. He needed an extra pair of eyes with him just in case we ran into some danger one sees and the other doesn't. So, Rob chose me. It was not because he was playing favorites or anything like that, but because he needed someone he could rely on and someone who already has taken a risk in watching the tunnels. He knew that I could be counted on to do anything. For the most part, I can follow his scheme of things and not question it and run head-on into it. Besides, Rob's known me for fifteen years and he knows my weaknesses and strengths. I know his, none of which I wish to mention.

In the meantime, Kinch had calculated how much time the ammo truck would take to get from the dump to the bridge. We were all in the tunnels as we (the crew of four, Rob and me) discussed this. "Colonel, the truck cannot be going any faster than forty miles per hour because of the ammunition. London says that it leaves around 1945 hours every evening to deliver to the ammo to the Luftwaffe units. So, it's about ten miles and…" Kinch took out some paper from his jacket and put together a formula on it. When he finally finished his calculations, he looked up. "Colonel, it'll take about sixty minutes to get from the dump to the bridge and other ten, each, to get to its multiple destinations."

"Which we're trying to prevent," Rob said.

"Exactly," replied Kinch. "So, roll call is about 2045 hours, the same time. If we set the timer to about thirty minutes before at 2015 then I think we'll get it, counting in the transportation and checkpoints. And it'll take off any suspicion the Gestapo have on us already."

Rob looked about thoughtful for a minute. He paced the radio room in the tunnels, thinking. Then, he stopped mid-pace, as he usually does when he has come up with a bright idea, and turned to face us near the radio. "_If_ Carter set us some delayed action bombs, _if_ we can sneak out of here with the extra security and_ if_ we had more men for distractions. The Colonel and I can handle this one. Newkirk, can you make up some false orders and papers and two uniforms for Gestapo agents?"

Newkirk, who had been hiding under a blanket on the cot, popped his head up. "Does the Colonel prefer a certain rank?"

"Just make them officers," Rob answered, and, in turning back to Kinch, continued. "Kinch, radio London, with as little power as possible, and have them send a bomber squad to get the dump. The place may be crawling with Krauts, but none have the ability to down our planes in that position because of the hills. London did say a few nights ago that it was hidden and is not armed enough to shot planes. They don't even have flak."

"Will do, Colonel," Kinch answered. He swiveled in his seat (as he was next to the radio already) and put his headset on, tapping the message out for London. As Kinch did that, I looked to Rob. I could tell that he is already frustrated with this situation and his worry for the men is apparent to me. He would sacrifice himself so that they could be free and I knew it.

Newkirk, by then, had hopped from the cot, suddenly alive with energy (I'm guessing that he was half-listening to the plans except to make uniforms). He headed down towards the tunnels that lead to Barracks 8 (towards his tailor's workshop), for he already has a huge assignment that needs doing.

Rob smiled and again turned back to the remaining men, LeBeau and Carter. "All right, we have a diversion and a plan. What we need next is to convince the Krauts that we're on business – to escape." He then looked at me and then I understood all too quickly what he wanted. "I'm sorry, Miss Saucy Tongue, but we have to cut you out to be one of us." The three men remaining started laughing at me, for it is the nickname they adapted for me, all in thanks to Rob. He slipped it out one night at their occasional poker game that I had a temper and a fiery tongue (I was in bed sleeping as I was never really interested in gambling). Afterward, the next night really, they heard me snap at Klink, via our coffee pot with a full volume. Rob wanted to hear what would happen when Klink, as he did that morning, order that the men mingle with me as I shower and change. This meant that the men could see me instead of the usual "wait until she's done and you can go in" bit. So, I yelled at Klink about it. Then the name stuck. I was pissed off when I had men coming up to me when I was in an angry mood and calling me Miss Saucy Tongue. "And you're saying calling a colonel that _because_?" I usually snapped back. The laughter usually slithers away afterward and then it starts up again.

But anyhow, this was a minor problem at the camp. Because I was the only woman and a target for many men (I'm not joking), I had decided, about the time the mission in Paris was done and over with, that I had to blend in with the crowd here at Stalag 13 so that, even though the men knew who I was, the visiting Germans won't. The hair that I grew out was brushed into a bun and stuffed under the cap that Carter gave me. My breasts had been taped back (it's not a huge loss) and never let loose except after dark. I seldom used the makeup that General Burkhalter, Linkmeyer's brother, gave me in an attempt to become less feminine and not blend in with the men here (trust me, the General is a suck-up, amazed to see me here and one day, I came back from roll call to see a package from him with that tribal paint). It'll come in handy sometimes, for those missions I need to hide who I am or need to look deader than I already am.

This mission was slightly more different than I thought it was going to be. Rob wanted us dressed and acting out as Gestapo agents (according to his plan) and he wanted me to blend more into this male world (like I haven't done previously!). We're out of camp around 1900 hours, get to the bridge while avoiding the Krauts, plant and set that bomb, run off and head back to camp before roll call while taking care of the agent. Again, I find a problem: I am still small and thin from being at Auschwitz for five months (it shows my womanly figure more than ever before). I can't be a Gestapo man.

Nothing will hide the absurdity of a woman Gestapo agent. It's hard enough to believe that, at a long distance, I'm not a scrawny private in his teen-aged years. I imply that, I, like most men in the Kraut army, found it strange that Mother was a part of the Gestapo and a _colonel _(then again, I have been amazed by most other things she's done, much more than I, and all I've found out recently). Everybody was highly amused by her dedication to Hitler and the absurd way that the men would address her by the male titles (they even honoring her the same way they do to Hitler). Me, a Gestapo agent, though? It is an outrage almost…and hysterically funny.

"Well, Colonel? You think we can pull it off?" I looked at Rob and sighed deeply, dropping my usually high-up shoulders.

I replied back to him, "Why not? What hurt would it do?" I heard more laughter from the men. I had submitted to authority and apparently, that was funny. I had to transform that very same day though and there was no time.

I was herded back up to the barracks by Rob along with Carter and LeBeau. Giggling and still laughing because I had given in to Rob, Carter and LeBeau proclaimed what was going to conspire – "Colonel Michalovich is going to be one of us!" "We're going to have her look like one of us!" – and so it went on. And just as quickly as this was said, so did the laughter. It was almost furious and never-ending. Rob even grinned as he hopped over the bunk and tapped the entranceway closed. He signaled that the men proclaim their silence as this hideous act was being played out and the remaining men obeyed him. It was only when I said it was going to be fine that this happening, as if I cared about it anyhow.

As soon as I gave the ok (which was about a few minutes after everyone in the barracks knew about the sudden change), LeBeau had to grab the scissors, which seemed to have come from nowhere, and cut my hair quickly as I sat down at the center table in the barracks. I wouldn't miss my hair. I had been shaven bald at Auschwitz and it hasn't bothered me if it was cut.

Now that I think about it, having it long over the years was a pain. So just cutting it back meant nothing to me. But for the others (ha, ha to them), it is a sacrilege of my feminine looks. They thought it was worse that I had given up all that to look like them. I had the other prisoners sighing and giving me dopey looks as LeBeau, piece by piece, cut my long red-gold hair. I was almost glad to see it go and found the men funny. I, however, found this more amusing. I was trying hard not to laugh and get my neck cut by scissors, it was that comical. _Oy vey!_

Afterward, it felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I was smiling and laughing with the men, even joking that, by the end of the war, nobody can tell what gender I really am (it is as if I am a girl-boy). Newkirk, by then, had come up from the tunnels and wanted to measure me, for Rob had asked that they help in getting me to pass muster in front of the fastidious and demanding Gestapo. For me, it was wretchedly up-close and personal and everyone had a nice viewing from their bunks. What was sadder was the way Rob looked at me as the men hooted and snickered at me (I was blushing at him, trying to laugh at the men's free view). He couldn't help that they were doing this, for they hadn't seen a good woman in ages and I was as close as I can get. I mean, who can say that they didn't when they had a great view or that they measured a female colonel's body? I wasn't magazine material, but I'm as close as it gets.

By the time LeBeau was done clipping my hair and Newkirk done measuring me, I had to dress back in my uniform and get out the door for roll call again. Schultz had bellowed "Roll call!" and there was a mad scramble to get everyone out the door on time. Rob had to call Kinch from the tunnels and drag him out quickly before Schultz came in (there was a few men blocking the doorway before he could come in and not surprisingly, it took more than half the barracks to hold back the door against Schultz). I still had to get back into uniform, for Klink had planned an inspection, or so we also heard from Schultz. This is all because General Burkhalter is coming to scrutinize our lovely paradise. Out of all people to come in and ruin whatever planning we have, _he_ had to be it.

Rob held onto a blanket in the corner of the barracks quickly so that I could dress in privacy. After I was done, I had to get out that trusty makeup kit, cover my pierced earlobes (this furthered my disguise) and put my hat on. This could be the test, to see if the Germans were fooled. All and all, I could, if I wanted to, look just like the rest of the men, except for my shape and my face, which could easily be hidden in the dark of night. This didn't fool Schultz, inspecting the barracks, by the way, who had to have a better look at me before verifying to Klink that it was me, which was a good thing. Good thing too I knew some German, come to think of it, for Rob couldn't have gotten along in some missions without it.

I went off after the barracks inspection to roll call and stood there, still working in my head what Rob wanted. At least it wasn't insane as freeing those prisoners from Hochstetter a few weeks ago by saying that Hitler wanted to decorate them because they were being good double agents for Germany. Or, even worse, it wasn't like trying to get a British agent out of camp in a balloon. Well, that's what Newkirk said they did before I came here and rocked the boat. They all thought that Rob was off his rocker and even tried to persuade him to take a vacation for two weeks in France, but it turned out that he wasn't.

I prepared myself for a long roll call. I just hoped that Klink wouldn't act like an idiot this time. I doubted it and knew, as soon as he started babbling to the General, I knew we were in for a long roll call. Schultz, even after saying his usual spew about is being all present and accounted for, sighed at Klink and moved aside so that the lecture could begin.


	5. A Change in Plans

Burkhalter, and thank G-d Linkmeyer (the men call her Dragon Lady), left so the planning would have continued after this laughable, pathetic and embarrassing roll call. However, it was highly unfortunate that Klink was leaving for Berlin _with_ them, for he had some staff meeting or another with Burkhalter ("He won't be missed in Berlin," Kinch whispered to me as I was about ready to laugh, but kept a straight face). There was a great many cheers from the men as he announced this. Rob still stood there with his arms crossed though. He was rethinking that plan, I could tell, because we have a new Kraut Kommandant and that means tougher guards and more security.

"The mice must be in the house while the cat is away," Klink called as he headed for the car. "And those mice had better stay there. Or else it'll be the cooler!" He saluted us and got into the staff car with Burkhalter and Linkmeyer, the latter of which cuddled with him with enough affection. From the staff car we could hear Klink yammering as Linkmeyer rubbed against him. We were fortunate enough to have Burkhalter tell him to shut up.

Second in command, unlucky for us, was that new beast, Captain Nitlz, an older officer from the first European war, I bet. Then I thought again and recognized him from a long time ago. And it so happens Nitlz looks _exactly_ like someone Mother knew and had over frequently enough when I was younger. _Dammit, if he recognized me and knew who I was, then I am a dead colonel tonight._

"Silence, prisoners!" Nitlz yelled as soon as the car rolled away from this hellhole. I could hear men groaning in protest, but someone had the final wisecrack.

"What if these mice like to scratch at the door and ask for cheese?" Nitlz was so _angry_ that he ordered a guard to take the man, Sergeant Parker, to solitary confinement for ten days, the duration Klink was in Berlin, with minimal amount of food and water. Rob and I were horrified by this treatment. Some tough-assed Kraut with kids on his side also meant one thing to us: the end of our operation for a while.

Nitlz, to be quite frank, is mentally ill too, I could tell: something I don't _quite _remember from long ago. He had, at that time he saw me in formation after Parker was taken away, some crazed manifestation in his eyes and he was scanning me for some reason, head to toe. I've seen it at Auschwitz. It is the face that would do _anything_ to get out of what they're dealing with. It is _agony_, the pain of dealing with yourself. So when I see this face, I know the feeling. They always want an escape with something or someone.

Rob even had the courage to step forward. "Captain, this is an infringement of the Geneva Convention in handling prisoners of war. No prisoner may be in solitary confinement –"

"Shut up, Colonel Hogan, or you may find yourself there. Or even have your fiancée and yourself brought to someplace you'd rather not be." He smiled almost evilly at Rob and had Schultz dismiss us. He then gave me another good long stare and this time it wasn't of his pain. I felt those demented eyes watch me. "Colonel von Rumey, remove that uniform and dress in the proper garb due to a German woman and an officer." Nitlz turned around and headed to Klink's office, never looking back at us prisoners.

I could _feel_ revulsion in this situation. Questions raced through my head and only one answer was clear to me. Why is he calling me Colonel von Rumey? Does he think that I might switch to the other side or was he confusing me with Mother or perhaps thinking that I took her last name, the name of her dead husband? _No, he could think that I took her last name_._ He can't confuse us unless he was under some fantasy._ And how did he know about me and Rob? Was there a connection that we didn't destroy in the mission at the rocket base? Or, even worse, was Nitlz in league with the now-dead Hozellenan? Does he think that Rob and I killed him and Mother? Does Hochstetter even _know_ about this?

I had my reply ready. I suffer under no German officer. I was the reckless one, after all. "Excuse me, Captain Nitlz? Is that a threat or a promise?" He finally spun around to face me. "It's Michalovich, if you haven't forgotten yet. And I'm not some half-assed Nazi like you are, if you haven't forgotten that, too. And while you're at it, you can get me that skirt or dress or whatever you want me to wear. You might as well iron and clean it, too. What type of regulation is that for a female prisoner again? Article six under paragraphs ten through twenty or some such nonsense?"

Again, I got that smile. Nitlz appeared to be a little safer than before, not crazed, but not by much. His eyes did appear to register recognition though and they appeared normal for a Nazi. "Ah, Colonel, but you are your mother's daughter. Just in case you've forgotten too, Colonel, that you are German, and I expect you to follow these regulations _to the_ _letter_. Also, if you didn't know, it is against the German law upon the Aryan race that a woman be dressed like a man. It shows what a Jewish bitch and a lesbian you really are. And Auschwitz suffers no one a fool."

My temper was rising again. He was stating something that everybody in Berlin thinks I am, and am not, in the sense they meant. My religion is none of their business and what I believe in is not for spectators. And as for me loving the same gender…well, Nitlz just said that Rob and I were engaged, so it's contradicting, as everything else he has said. He could also have meant it in the sense that I love both genders. I pointed it out. "You have no proof that I am either," I said as politely as I could, but it was through clenched teeth. I could feel Rob's hands on my shoulders, trying to get me to cool down my temper. It only rose when I felt pounding pain on my shoulder and side.

"We'll see, Colonel. Your end, and Colonel Hogan's, may be coming sooner than you think." Nitlz, that rat, finally went back to Klink's office, where I wish he could suffocate in, for all I care. _How dare he accuse!_ I didn't care, even if I knew that he had a mental sickness or that he was insane or not, he's a German officer who believes in that crazed Hitler. What more reason does any Allied officer like me need? It justifies that _all_ in Germany, who believe in Hitler, are just as mental as Nitlz.

Rob finally grabbed my attention and turned me around, almost causing me to hit him back for the further pain he was causing me. The guards were gone then and the prisoners were crowded around us, pretending to talk about their lives and the letters that they received yesterday. It was a sure disguise for us since the German guards can't hear us now with all this chatter.

Again, Rob was biting his lip. "He knows," he said. "This is more dangerous than I thought. Nikki, we have to get that truck and agent tonight and destroy whatever ties the Krauts have to you and your family."

"How will _that_ be achieved now, genius?" I went off. "They just raised number of the guards this morning. Colonel, have you even _thought_ that more than half of Germany knows my family? And none have a more cracked skull than Nitlz, who is a sick contradiction of everything!" I was feeling my temper rise again, this time higher than usual. I felt some hands behind me again. It was Carter's working on my back, but I brushed them aside. This is no time to be calm and collective, but a time to take action _now_.

Rob, however, put his hands back on my shoulders again. I winced as he touched the right one again. "The plan goes as scheduled." He shuddered at the thought because it was much more dangerous with Nitlz around. "Nikki, there's no other way this can get achieved. More's the reason we _should_ get this done. We just have to be quicker and much shrewder than we thought. This Kraut seems to have everything under control, except he has a more warped mind."

I hated it more than anything in the world that he was calling me Nikki and still not taking any action _now_. Why be personal and not take up the roles we thrust upon ourselves?

"Shall we continue with our plans, Colonel?" Carter asked.

Rob took his hands off my shoulders (I was so glad for it) and turned to face the men that had gathered closer around him. "Yes, continue your plans, except with a little twist for our new Kraut Kommandant. Carter, Newkirk, get some phony evidence and you better make it so that people are escaping to Hozellenan's destroyed house. The Gestapo is usually there, so it'll be an interesting clash. The rest of you, create some chaos along with them, scandalmonger and be a dirty, rotten stool pigeon for all I care. Start a fire in Barracks 9 while you're at it and make it _last_, if necessary. Get the fellows at Barracks 14 to be louder than usual. Do something!"

"Yes, Colonel," was what the two scoundrels, Newkirk and Carter, said. The others tipped their hats and went off.

Private Yeats, who resides in Barracks 9, whistled at Rob. He saluted, saying, "Yes Sir, we'll make sure that fire lasts long enough! Barracks 14 will be a sure help!"

"Good, Private," Rob replied as he saluted back. Then, he turned to the other men and gave more orders. "Kinch, keep radioing London and tell them that tonight is still the night. Ask them if they're still sending our suspected double agent."

The orders were acknowledged and the group was splitting up further until LeBeau came up. "What about me, Colonel Hogan?"

Rob faced him. He put his hands on LeBeau's shoulders and said ironically, "You have the best job, LeBeau. You get to bribe Schultz and see what's going on with our new Kommandant Nitlz over there. Make sure there are no bedchecks, extra roll calls or nice, cruel punishments in the case of escape. These little interruptions can stop us from getting through with this little arrangement I have."

LeBeau was _angry_ and pushed Rob aside and kicked a rock, splitting it in two when it hit another rock. "Why is it that I'm always left behind?" he asked. I laughed at his sullenness. Yes, the men are still like children!


	6. Kommandant Nitlz

The plan requires more timing and thinking than Rob and I thought. That was the main thing though, playing with time and having it on our side for once. Obviously, the bombing of the bridge and ammo truck and dump have to be _at the same time_. Kinch did mention that it was at about 2045 hours that it passed to the bridge, so Rob and I have to set it beforehand, a good half hour to not have the Krauts suspect us, especially Hochstetter. Even if General Burkhalter was there during our interrogation, because Klink doesn't come back without some top brass, then we could have some leniency and get off the hook because of me (so says Rob).

Carter did manage to create that delayed fuse and the explosives for the tunnels in time, before Nitlz's goons came in to inspect the barracks. And that time, they were looking for tunnels and other escape routes and tools because of this paranoid tendency all German Kommandants have here that we'd all escape and at any time. Granted, Schultz had warned us ahead of time (through LeBeau, so without him, there wouldn't be this fair warning), so Rob was prepared and even had all of the remaining men out of the tunnels in time. This journal was left below just in case they had to search the quarters, and trust me, they did. Ripped it apart and everything! Nitlz ordered that the Colonels' quarters not be spared either and that my belongings be shredded and searched. "The cleaning maid doesn't come in until Friday," Rob said as Nitlz ordered this. "So, if you don't mind, I'd like to tidy up before you do." Nitlz almost ordered a guard to silence and move Rob aside, but he saw me instead and I took his interest.

Nitlz took me aside while Rob talked his way out to the guard in his quarters about our lovely barracks and the beautiful laundry I hang over my bunk and out to his desk. "Ah, Colonel, what have the Americans done to you?" Nitlz asked me as everyone's back was turned to him (the Krauts, I mean). He was also caressing my hair, or what was left of it, and jamming me into a corner. I tried pulling away, but he wouldn't let me. I was his hostage.

The other prisoners couldn't do anything for they would be shot if they tried, according to the Kraut Book of Handling Prisoners. They all just stared on in horror and hoped for the best: that Rob would come out or even if Schultz could get him off of me. One prisoner, Private Amos, even tried getting to Rob in his quarters and I saw that a guard barred him from coming in. Kinch then tried to cunningly slip past the same guard, telling Amos to back off and not get shot, and succeed, hopefully for my benefit.

However, it was too late for me to get out of this revolting situation. It had gotten worse, too. Nitlz kissed me fully on the mouth and was opening it. I fought him back, screamed (I was biting him as he tried to shush me, cutting him on the tongue and lips) and was finally caught by Schultz, of all people. I was ready to weep with joy! Kinch and Rob came behind him. Rob, by all rights, should have killed Nitlz then and there. He was about ready to _strangle_ him.

"Herr Kommandant, the barracks are perfect and nothing has been FOUND," Schultz said. Nitlz let me go, dropping me to the ground. I didn't care, he freed me!

"Good work, Sergeant Schultz. Let us inspect the other barracks," was all Nitlz could say. And then he left, stiff and almost frozen in his expression. His mouth was still bleeding and I saw him take out a handkerchief. It was my perfect act of revenge.

Rob came up to me after they left, helping me back up. "What did he do to you? Are you all right? Did he do anything to you?" I was shaking, but holding my own.

Afterward, laughing as Rob kept asking me questions, all I managed a wise crack. "If this keeps up, I'll be complaining to the Board and the Geneva Convention," I said. Rob could only laugh. The others, especially Kinch, gave a sigh of relief. At least I still had my sharp tongue.

~00~

Like I said so many times, this mission is also very essential to succeed in. It is also important that, as disguised Gestapo agents, Rob and I contact with people as little as possible before and after we reach our destination and nap our agent. The cover of darkness can hide who we really are. It is also up to me to try not to stick our hands in the hornet's nest. In other words, I have to safeguard the commanding officer, no matter what relation he is to me. This includes everything that revolves around the camp. What is worse than this impending mission are those extra roll calls. Soon after that encounter with Nitlz, Schultz called for another roll call, which was two hours after the last one. Usually, they are about six hours in-between each, plus bedchecks once a night on random nights. Lately, there has been extra because of those idiot children-guards, but it's one every few hours and I'm talking about two to three hours.

We all were in the barracks after that roll call because Nitlz had confined us. I sat down at the table at lunchtime with Rob and the rest of the men when I said, without thinking, "We'll never get that mission done."

LeBeau was serving food and indicated that I was right by saying, "She's right, Colonel Hogan. Nitlz has this place wired and ready to give the orders to shot. He's nuts!" The rest of the men were just as miserable and were agreeing with me. I mean, we're spoiled prisoners of war because of Klink, but it doesn't mean that we don't know trouble when it comes.

Rob had been reading a book and eating lunch (which was strange) and looked up. "Why are you saying that, Nikki? You can't be admitting failure now. We especially can't say that we quit in the face of this major letdown. I know you said that we can't win them all, but we have to! All I need in this mission is the evidence to condemn some prisoners escaping to Hozellenan's place."

I was very shocked and made sure to show it on my face. First of all, I've been shocked all day that he has called me Nikki in front of the others. I've always hated that. Secondly, he didn't say anything about an escape to _somewhere_, just an escape. He also ordered that some chaos was ensured in camp as we go through with the mission and plant some evidence that point us in a different direction. Lastly, Nitlz is up our backs all day (and night, for that matter, if he keeps up with his harassing). How can we guarantee an escape? "Prisoner escapes? Colonel, are you losing your rocker or have you hit your head against that table?" I snapped.

Rob laughed at me. He _laughed_ at me, like this was some joke or something. When he stopped, he said, "That…was what Newkirk and Carter are to do. They're escaping and creating as much commotion at that house as humanly possible with the Gestapo around there. And…" He started to laugh at me again, and, upon seeing my reddened, angry face, continued. "Oh, Miss Saucy Tongue…" He went off again, and, as I was getting very agitated _fast_, I tapped the floor with my foot, my arms crossed across my chest. It also didn't help that the rest of the men were, as nervous as they usually are in situations like this, laughed along with Rob. I was ready to kill them all. They had better tell me now, lest their commanding officer be strangled by _me_.

"Fine, fine, fine!" I yelled. "So, the guys are going to be our distraction. What about Nitlz and the rest of his nutcases?" I wasn't even afraid that Nitlz's hoodlums might come any minute. Besides, who cares? They can shot me for all I care. I've been to hell and back.

The laughing ceased. Rob caught his breathe and said, "You're right, they are our distractions. Newkirk and Carter are leaving a trial behind them and carrying proof that we, too, have escaped. To the Krauts, it can't be true because they believe that we're here at camp. They would also carry letters on them, criminating Nitlz. The letters are going be in obvious sight for Hochstetter, who's bound to be there. Now, these papers are going to be telling Hochstetter who, what, when, where, how and also, the _why_ they're out of camp. The orders are forged so that they state 'Captain Nitlz, officer of the German Army, has agreed to let the prisoners escape,' etc., etc. Carter also has a secret pocket, which Hochstetter is sure to find, that further pushes our naughty Kraut into the realm of treason to the Third Reich. And Nitlz is going to follow them, as any German officer does when prisoners escape, just to justify that he is on their side. It'll be a fascinating battle with the Gestapo."

It was my turn to laugh. "Colonel, what are those papers going to say _exactly_?" My thoughts then turned to this plan, a game, in which we rid ourselves of the Krauts who bother us the most. _It would most certainly give me piece of mind._ But then again, it could mean trouble for Carter and Newkirk.

Rob grinned further. "That he's going to be helping the Allied Forces blow up that bridge. And of course, Hochstetter will receive the information too late and everything will be destroyed by then. All he'll know is that Nitlz sent prisoners out to do his work without them knowing it. Hochstetter also won't know who destroyed the bridge. He'll only know that Nitlz let some prisoners loose and that they're going back to England with these papers. All the escapees will know, as Newkirk and Carter will tell Hochstetter, is that they were ordered to escape. We could claim that the papers were not known to be there. It'll be a case of ignorance." My laughter had stopped almost immediately after that. It was amazing to me that I was surprised, for the first time, at Rob's insane planning. I was always irritated and able to recite along, yes, but surprised, no. That last part chilled me because we could claim that the papers were not known to be there. What if the Krauts don't believe us?

~00~

Oh, boy, our intruder has just woken up. I better get LeBeau to feed him later and _I_ had better make sure he's all right. Worse, it's almost time for another roll call. It's already 0555 hours and Schultz is going to call us up soon. Worst of all, Klink is back with his crackling laughter and crude ways of commanding. Rob's already angry that I've been writing for hours – writing pages and pages – and not really paying any attention to our prisoner. He's full of it, I was watching him! That little sneak was moving too much and struggling against the restraints. It wasn't _my_ fault that he was squirming in his chair!


	7. Caught By Schultz

**Later – Evening  
****The Barracks - 2230 Hours**

Today has been normal, nothing that indicated that the Gestapo is hot on our trials or worse: that they're looking for their little spy.

Well, anyhow, the day of the mission was still up in the air for me. During the day afterwards I took to Rob's quarters and was staring at a wall. I had already readdressed the final letter to Father and was becoming freakishly paranoid about the assignment again. I was afraid for everybody, for this, like every other mission, could have us shot. My neck, always the one to warn me of such things, had been prickling and therefore, my concern was justified. The best thing to do for me was to calm down and this meant being alone.

I couldn't tell the time, but when Rob came in, it was dusk and about time to put the plan into action. "Are you all right, Nikki? Nikki? Miss Saucy Tongue?"

I turned towards Rob and just nodded my head. I almost bugged my eyes out when I saw him in a Gestapo colonel's uniform. It was like my sadness and paranoia was lifted off my shoulders when I saw him, it was that absurd. I laughed good and hard. It was worse when Rob saluted me and said in a German accent (which he still doesn't really have because it's _so_ American), "Herr Major, your uniform awaits!" By then I was ready to hit the floor and cry with laughter.

In my laughter, I saw Newkirk come in with my uniform. He, too, saluted me and said in a German accent (his is better than Rob's), "Herr Major, your uniform! Heil Hitler!" He handed the uniform over to me, clicked his heels together and saluted me once more and said again, "Heil Hitler!" Newkirk then turned on his heel and spun out of the room, only to have Rob hit him on the head with a pair of his gloves. By then, I was _really_ on the floor, crying again. The uniform, which I lost in my hands, was lying misplaced on the floor. The laundry that I hung up earlier had been knocked over and was flying all over the place. It was a ruckus!

Rob laughed along with me and picked up my uniform, trying to hold me up at the same time. It was so incongruous trying to hold each other up and be serious, so we stopped. I sighed and grabbed a blanket to tack across my bunk, taking the uniform with me. I tucked myself in there and listened to Rob talk about the mission as he picked up my now-dirty clothes and hang them back up on the line (I must say, the quarters are not cleaned and explains why my laundry is now dirty). We had to make sure I was passable to the Gestapo in the dark, _for sure_, before heading out. We had about three hours to go and Carter and Newkirk need to head out. "LeBeau has ensured us that there is no bedcheck tonight but the usual roll call at 2045," Rob began.

"A little food never really hurt Schultz," I called out from behind the blanket. I heard Rob chuckle and continue.

"The Underground has set up a trap for our suspected double agent and London has approved of it," Rob continued. "We're to meet him at the bridge. For him, it's to make sure that he has help from the Underground. He's the same teen-ager that keeps asking for help from the Underground, says that his father was killed by a German woman and the Krauts are hot on his trial. His code name is Athena."

_A teen-ager is asking for our help?_ "He has some wisdom, huh?" I said as I slipped into the uniform shirt. "Are you sure he's wise enough to know he's heading into a trap?"

"Probably," said Rob, "but we have to keep on our toes too. This agent was sent on purpose, remember, because he's suspected to be a Gestapo spy and the Germans probably sent him in because they want to catch us at something. If he really is a double agent, then we'll know."

Rob started to whistle "Unsung Heroes," something I haven't heard in a long time. It made me more baffled than before. "_We_ will know? How will we know?" I popped my head out of my bunk and unhooked the blanket. I looked at myself in the nearest mirror, which was the one that Rob used when he shaved himself (rare is that time since LeBeau does it). The uniform looked really good, it didn't show how small and thin I really was. "Rob, are we using a different code then he's anticipating?"

He stopped whistling and smiled at me, I saw him through the mirror. "Everybody will know but him. That's the catch. If he is one of us, then he'll know the code, for it is the common one used among us and the Underground. Every agent in every unit in the Underground here knows this code. Krauts haven't caught this one yet."

"So, what's the code?" I was pulling my fingers through my short hair and grabbed the customary hat that came along with my uniform. Someone must have left it there for me because I never saw it before then.

Again, there was that smile. "Oh, something we both knew first." Rob shrugged his shoulders at me as I turned to face him, giving him one of my most menacing looks. He laughed. I pulled myself back to normal, trying hard to suppress a smile, but failed. I even raised an eyebrow at Rob and waited for the code. He said, "Nikki, do you remember the words to 'Starman'?"

I shook my head and laughed.

~00~

After those half a million prisoner checks and making sure we had our Gestapo uniforms hidden well enough before taking them out again to change for the real thing, Rob had ordered that Newkirk and Carter leave. They left through the emergency tunnel with their papers, supplies and some tools. "Making sure that the Krauts catch us, Colonel Hogan," Carter told me before he left. Newkirk just hit him in the head with his hat and pushed him up the ladder, causing Carter to almost break his neck in a fall.

"That's the bloody point, Andrew!" Newkirk yelled at him. It was by then only an hour before Rob and I had to go. So far, so good: my neck wasn't prickling this time (I had calmed down enough) and Rob and I were scoot-free. Nothing was going on tonight, according to LeBeau.

One incident almost had us in the slammer or the firing squad for good except we were caught by the right person. Just as Rob was ready to go (I was still getting changed for the real thing and Rob is always ready to leave early) Schultz came in. Kinch and LeBeau were trying to stall him in a poker game they had started with some other men, but he saw Rob in his Gestapo uniform in a shadowy corner of the barracks. Before I knew it, I heard Schultz rummaging around our barracks and calling for me. I can explain that one, for Schultz is usually here for a reason. Regularly, about once a week, Schultz would come looking for me and ask me if I could play some cards with him and the guys here, which also explains the poker game LeBeau and Kinch had going. The first time Schultz asked me, I was in utter despair because I had just lost everybody. As time went on, it was fun hanging around Schultz once in a while. I didn't like the gambling and I just play along for Schultz just because he's a good guard for a Kraut.

I pulled the blanket aside and went to the door. I pressed myself against it and was listening to the conversation (might I mention that I was still half-naked?). Through the doorway, I heard that Schultz sounded as frustrated as ever before. I'm guessing he was tired of our silly antics, in all seriousness. "Colonel Hogan, PLUL-EASE! To be wearing a Gestapo uniform is to have you SHOT!"

I was putting my knuckles in my mouth when Schultz said this, I was ready to giggle. It's amazing how much Rob and the rest of the crew can manipulate poor Schultz. I hate doing that, but just seeing them pushing him around is funny. You still have to pity the poor guard, though.

Rob's reply was perfect, just in time to confuse our guard. "Come on, Schultz, I just put this one to make the Colonel smile a little. She's sick, you know, _really_ sick."

I heard Schultz chuckle. "Well, Colonel Hogan, that's good, but –" Schultz stopped himself and then I heard him, for once, be serious. "COLONEL HOGAN! Why wasn't Captain Nitlz informed about this? And what about THAT Gestapo uniform? WHERE DID IT COME FROM?"

"Well you see Schultz – LeBeau, go check on the Colonel – she's…" And so Rob rambled. I scampered away from the door and headed back to the bunk. I took the blanket off the bunk, hid my Gestapo uniform under it and jumped into bed, hugging the blanket with me. I hurt my shoulder and side more than I had anticipated, but I had to make sure that Rob's story checked out. I was pale and sickly-looking enough and didn't have any of that female paint on me. That and I didn't want LeBeau seeing me half-naked. I think the up-close and personal measuring was enough. Well, on second thought, the shower incident from a few weeks ago was enough. The men were stealing my clothes and dismantling the showers for public viewings! Lucky I didn't court martial them for disrespect! That should be ranked as one of the most embarrassing moments I've had here so far.

LeBeau opened the door and closed it quickly behind him, holding a bowl of soup and our rag-tag thermometer. He set those things upon the desk and ran to me, whistling about the misplaced laundry, and fixed the blankets. He tried to get me to roll over to my right side, but with no success. I struggle against him and almost smacked him in his retaliation to hold me in that position. He didn't remember where I was hit and figured out where only when I struggled. Then he stopped.

"The Kommandant has lost his mind," LeBeau hissed with some nastiness in his voice, annoyed. He continued to make sure everything was in order (it was) and that my uniform was hidden. I didn't need any makeup to create a sickly person, for I looked it already.

Beyond the door, I heard Schultz asking, "Where is Newkirk and Carter?" He sounded panicky and afraid. Nitlz must have bent his will already and frightened him into giving some information, but everyone is familiar with Schultz's main idiom: "I know NO-TING!"

LeBeau jumped when he heard the door open. I closed my eyes and tried to look as if I was sleeping. It was hard because I was ready to giggle again, this time in excitement and at the comic scene I can almost imagine outside. I did hear LeBeau trying to get Schultz out (I knew it was Schultz because of the noise that was created as the door opened) and the door slammed in the end. I got out of bed (forgetting that I was half-naked) and sat next to LeBeau, also sitting, at the door. Schultz was talking and sounded like he was in doubt about the situation again, saying, "Maybe I should tell Kommandant Nitlz…"

"No, you shouldn't, Schultz," Rob said rashly and boldly. _So, he was trying to keep up with this charade and hide a little something around that captain_. _Keep it up, Rob!_

However, Schultz couldn't be wavered in his decision this time. Maybe Rob shouldn't have told Schultz I was sick! "But I have to report this, Colonel Hogan. You should NOT be in Gestapo uniform. AND there are two missing prisoners! This should be told to the man in charge and I should be the one to do it!"

It was lucky for us that Rob started in on his blackmail, just in time (very quick thinking, I might add): "I'm sorry then, Schultz. I guess you'll be wearing cold weather clothing at the Eastern Front. I mean, how can a prisoner of war get a uniform like this and get it past his guard? Not to mention, Schultz, that two prisoners are gone after roll call only two hours ago?"

Schultz still wasn't afraid. "Cold weather has never hurt me, Colonel Hogan. And beside –" Schultz stopped midsentence, probably shocked by what he said by this small detail, and whispered, "The Eastern Front?"

I could almost _hear_ Rob's smile. "Oh yes, Schultz, the Eastern Front! And this isn't the only thing Nitlz is going to hear. I mean, there is also this story, a rumor, about a certain guard here at Stalag 13. He didn't mind his own business and told the present Kommandant everything that went on this camp. Now, this guard had stolen, before this incident, three pairs of nylon stockings of a certain colonel and twelve pounds of Red Cross coffee meant for pris–"

_Bingo_, I thought as I heard the satisfying answer, the one we needed desperately. "COLONEL HOAGN!" Schultz must have been covering his ears for now he was screaming loudly. "I SEE NOT-ING, I HEAR NOT-ING AND I KNOW NO-TING!" Then I heard a door slam, and this time, it was the barracks' door.

"Well, that takes care of that," I said to LeBeau, who wasn't even paying attention to what I was saying, but to what I was wearing. He was gaping at me and started whistling. I blushed red and made a grab for the blanket on the bed. I was mortified!

"LeBeau, back off! That's an order! Just…back…away…LeBeau!" I was screaming. It was that insufferable look that prevailed and not the respect he was suppose to be giving me as senior officer. So, covered in a blanket, I screamed further and was just about to slap him silly when the door opened. It was only Rob, still in his Gestapo uniform.

"Colonel, what's all this yelling about?" Rob asked. He only had to turn his head to see LeBeau's unmoving, almost drooling face. Unfortunately, he was laughing and this time, it was at me and the situation at hand. "LeBeau, out!" he ordered before doubling over in laughter. Turning back to me he said, "Nikki, you better hurry up before the guys get in here with the dummy. And I hope you're dressed fully next time!" He then shut the door behind him. I could still hear his laughter behind the door.


	8. Tight Schedule Already

Just on time, at 1900 hours, Rob and I left through the emergency tunnel, carefully stepping over the explosives that Carter was ordered to place. The guards were not watching that angle, our dummies were put into place by Kinch, Kearns, Amos and Wilson and the dogs were calmed down by LeBeau ahead of time. Everything was cleared, the skies didn't threaten any rain and the Krauts were not on a hunt for us or even Newkirk and Carter yet (the duo were probably a good few miles away by then). It was a perfect evening and my neck wasn't prickling. I wasn't in any fear. That terror was gone by then.

The remaining time I was getting dressed, however, remained uneventful after Schultz came in. The details of what happened in Rob's quarters were, dutifully, passed around to every person in camp by the time I came out of Rob's quarters (news does travel fast around here). All whistles and cat calls were also thrown in my direction. All I had to do was give my most famous menacing face and the chatter and whistles stopped. I was still angry with LeBeau too. So, I went up to him (he was cooking dinner) and said to him, "LeBeau, if you so _ever_ try pushing me to my right side again I'll squish you smaller than you already are. And that's a _promise_."

"Oui," was all he said. His back was still to me, but I didn't care. Just as long as they still know, that if _anyone_, including Rob, touches, pushed, pulls, etc. me there, they will be hurt just as badly as I am. And _that's_ a promise I'm willing to keep.

I turned away from LeBeau and went to the bunk. Rob was already ahead of me and I needed to catch up. I flipped myself into position and went down the ladder, searching for the emergency exit on the other side of the tunnel. Rob was standing there waiting for me, quiet and quite irritated that I was running late. His face can always say the words that he never says. And it was with this same attitude that we went out into the night.

~00~

As we went out, going according to plan, an alarm sounded for Carter and Newkirk's escape. Schultz must have told Nitlz that we left and was letting us have a head start. Either that or they did a roll call in the barracks just as we left and found us missing. _Nitlz is already falling in our trap either way_, I thought as I climbed up the ladder and ducked out of the light's way, running into the forests as the sirens blared for escaped prisoners. And I bet Rob was thinking the same thing, too.

My first thought upon reaching the path in the forests was: _Jesus, there sure are a lot of Krauts out here_. And indeed there were. The plan was still as follows: stay away from the Krauts as much as possible, use as little contact as possible and get this mission done and over with before Hochstetter returns with Carter and Newkirk. Nitlz might or might not be out there trying to capture them, but either way, he's a dead Nazi. I just hoped that Newkirk and Carter are alright, for being captured with those papers is a just reason by the Krauts to have them shot as Allied spies. And if everything blew in the right direction, we might have Klink and Burkhalter running back and we could get the prisoners out of this mess before anything drastic happens.

The trip to meet our agent was, all and all, silent. Rob either didn't want to speak or was trying to follow through with plans and not draw suspicion. Under his coat were the delayed action explosives, so I guess it's vital not to speak and spark the switch to those explosives. I followed his example (I mean, a one-way conversation is not a great thing to hold onto). Being quiet had its advantages, too: luck had, after all, tagged on along for once and we had no abrupt threats with any Krauts in any way. My neck didn't even irritate me.

The woods were quiet and any noise we heard came from the Krauts when we went by Hozellenan's place. _An agent was trapped? Was it Carter and Newkirk?_ We didn't know.

When I stopped and went in the direction of the noise, Rob had to pull me along. I had to help those poor souls, I just had to! "We have a mission to do, Desertstar, and we can't afford to dally," Rob said, the first words he spoke since we left Stalag 13. I agreed, but there was still the feeling of helplessness.

We were nearing the bridge we had to destroy when we encountered some Krauts, the first group of Kraut guards made contact with us. Apparently, we hadn't thought of any checkpoints at the bridge! _Great,_ I thought._ What if they found out who we are?_

"Herr Kommandant, what brings you here? This bridge is blocked off by all personal and civilians unless ordered." The guard, a captain, up by the bridge stopped us and looked at Rob. A light was shining from his booth and blinding me. I had to turn away so that I could see and so that they not see who I am. However, I did see some other sentinel stand over behind me and he paced around us. "Where are your orders?" the guard behind me barked at Rob, who had the higher rank than the person behind me – a hotshot corporal.

Rob, however dashing in his fake moustache and German uniform (What am I _saying_?), said in his obviously faked German accent, "What orders? I follow nobody's orders but the Gestapo's, unless some bumbling idiot wants to interrupt what we're doing." Rob saw the Corporal pacing around me specifically then. He said to get him off of my tail, "Corporal, let us go, this –"

Rob was interrupted by this fast-action corporal who had reached out and grabbed onto my hat. I was just looking away from the light still, but I didn't know that I was drawing that much suspicion upon myself by that corporal behind me. I tried to fight back, but the Captain grabbed me from the other side. Rob tried to stop these guards from clutching onto me, but it was too late. The hat fell off anyway and the light shone fully in my direction.

We were caught.

The Corporal smiled at me, but for some reason, my neck wasn't prickling. I was panicking yet I wasn't going insane with fear. I wasn't sweating and fearing for Rob's life. I was just staring down the person who had caught us and getting jumpy for no reason. What calmed me down was what happened next, amazing as it was. The Corporal laughed and said in German, "Let's let her go, Captain. Obviously she isn't of any value to anybody but him."

The Captain laughed and released his grip on me. I was rubbing my shoulder and side, a far cry from the brutal handling the guards at Auschwitz are like, but burning nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Rob was clearing his throat and eventually, after a few seconds said, "Men, can we pass along now? Obviously, this Fräulein isn't causing any trouble. Let us pass so that she can show me her quarters." He smiled that convincing grin of his, the one that he used on me when he wanted me to do something for him or get him out of trouble. And that same grin won the Krauts over.

The Corporal and his goon partner of a commanding officer backed away into the booth and let us through. "I'm sorry, Herr Kommandant, Fräulein. Good evening!" He waved us over as we walked onward to our rendezvous. I picked up my hat from the ground on the way through and positioned it once more on my head. I hooked my arm into Rob's and walked fast (he was trying to keep up with me although he was just as eager as I was to meet the agent).

I said, as soon as we crossed over that bridge, "That was a close call."

Rob answered, "You're telling me. I wonder if they have life insurance. That bridge blowing up might give them more money from the Third Reich or a good view of a firing squad." I stopped and gave him my raised-eyebrow look. He did turn to gaze into my face, but it was not a good move for him. I was revolted with him for a split second and I hit him lightly in the check, disgusted that he talked of their deaths as a casual thing, funny as the joke is.

~00~

It was about 1950 hours when Rob and I scurried to the next checkpoint half a mile away and passed. That captain might have called ahead of time for we had no trouble passing and we were let through as soon as we got there. The Sergeant in charge of that booth didn't ask for any papers or identification, but opened the road block and let us through. It was a fortunate thing to happen, for our agent was ahead in the woods: Athena, that teen-ager who says he needed our help. I could almost see his figure in the woods ahead of us.

After the light from the checkpoint moved away from our direction, Rob and I went for the woods and unhooked our arms. We had about twenty minutes to go before having to set that timer and we had to get to that agent quickly before we had to leave.

Rob and I didn't need to search for him for long. He was standing a few yards into the woods in a German sergeant's uniform. I did see him beforehand and almost gasped when I saw him: he was that same person who captured me and Nancy. And he seemed to appear like someone I knew from a time colder and much more far away than I dreamed it to be. He appeared to sharp and unfeeling, again that face that always seems to follow me everywhere. The short-cropped hair, the blue eyes, the alertness to everything around him…it showed me everything.

I ran to catch up with Rob, for he was already ahead of me. I elbowed him as he walked and whispered, "Let me handle it, please." I just made sure I whispered low so that our little double agent (if he really is one, and I don't doubt it) couldn't hear me. I just had to get Rob to do the same. But he kept walking towards him and didn't bother to turn to answer me. This infuriated me.

"Why?" Rob asked, still not bothering to look over his shoulder. I ran up to him and whacked his back and out went my finger to my mouth indicating that we talk low.

I didn't want to answer his question. I hesitated. Did I want to tell him? I thought for a moment before deciding. I think I made the best decision in telling Rob because not only will he be furious if I don't, but also because if I knew him and didn't tell Rob, there was a chance in the operation going to bits. "Rob…he was the Kraut that jailed me and Nancy into the Third Reich. I think he was also the one who shot me," I whispered.

Rob was disappointed as soon as I said it. He started rubbing his eyes with his fingers, obviously frustrated with another headache, and said, "All right, but just be careful. Remember the plan and have your gun ready."

"Deal," I said, agreeing immediately to have my way with any possible deal Rob has up his sleeve at the time.

Smiling at me, Rob again hooked his arm into mine and called out to our infamous double agent in his bogus German enunciation, "Good evening, Sergeant. It is such a good evening to go hunting, is it not?" The Sergeant faced us and, as Carter would say, took a good gander at us, me especially. His features went from stern-looking and stoic to utter shock. He did regain his posture to answer.

"_Ja_, Herr Kommandant. There is a great many game around, ready to pounce in this game." The code was answered quickly and coldly, might I add.

It was my turn. I was the one, Rob and I agreed before we went, that would say our code, the one that would confirm my fears or make me feel like a total embarrassment. I walked forward towards our agent and went casually behind him. It was procedure, to make sure where his gun (or any weapon, for that matter) was and there was one in his belt behind him, a bad spot because anybody could grab it. I snatched his gun from behind him, and thank G-d he didn't noticed, and said, still behind him, "Sergeant, did you know what time it was when the lights were low?"

"Fräulein, what are you talking about? That isn't the code." Our sergeant went out of code and verified what London feared. Worse, he mistook me for a typical agent on the field who escaped from her Fate, not knowing that I am still a P.O.W. That was his last mistake.

I, on hearing this, put his gun behind his back. "Have your arms up, buddy. If you try anything, I'll shot to kill." He tried to grab from at the rear for his gun, but I single-handedly grabbed his hands with my right hand and disabled him easily. "Looking for this?" I asked him, spinning him to face me and showing his gun. He was enraged and tried to grab for the gun and me but I knocked him out unconscious before he had the chance. I was sure that he would create a racket when we moved him back to camp otherwise. I even had the decency to catch him on his way down.

Rob, who had been watching from a few yards away after he introduced himself in code, ran up to us. "Nice work, Nikki. He got anything else on him?"

"I don't know, but we better check," I said. I dropped the dead weight gently to the ground and searched, coming up with a silencer for the gun, a delayed action bomb and some pictures and identification in his wallet. He was Jozef George von Rumey, sixteen years old and senior officer in Hitler Youth and a volunteer in the German army. His family was listed, as identification just in case. George was listed as such except his name was crossed out and "traitor" was written in its place.

I didn't want to believe it then and now. I seriously can't consider that there is someone biologically related to me and _alive_. There are so few of us left, I now know.

"Damn, he's got more brass than any army personal I know at that age," Rob said as he saw the name of the child. "Is there any relation to you?"

"Probably, and when he comes to, he'd better talk and talk fast," I said, incredulous about the circumstances. "We have to bring him back to camp. My question of the night is how do we get to the bridge now and _then_ back to camp? We have about ten minutes before that truck comes!"

"Don't worry, Nikki. We'll have to drag him around and we'll get him back," Rob said. I gave him my best quizzical look as Rob picked him up, flung him to his shoulder as easily as if he was a sack of potatoes and started walking, stumbling at first but then with a steady pace. I stood where I was and saw the material remains of this lone form, an existent child, and stifled a cry. I put a knuckle in my mouth and picked up his belongings, putting them in my pockets, and trailed behind Rob. The unconscious figure, my nephew we said for the time being, still remained silent and immobile.


	9. Mission Completed

Re-tracking our path through the forest proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated. Rob not only had to carry this child but had to navigate through the woods. He had me carry the map he was holding in his jacket (in case we had gotten lost) and direct where we are to go because this forest, a perfect cover, could not direct us to where we needed to be. We only had a few minutes.

About a while after this and many arguments with Rob later, I asked, exasperated, "Where are we?"

"We have to head west and then south," he grunted. "But which direction is…?" Rob trialed his sentence when he heard some voices. He motioned for me to hit the ground after him. The body of the child rolled from his shoulders quietly (which, I could tell, helped him to breathe easier) and laid face-up on the ground next to me. Low, I crawled to Rob and pulled out a pair of binoculars, handing them to him. He smiled as he looked through them and then handed it back to me. "Does that answer your question?" he asked.

Sighing, I peeked through and saw just what we were searching for: the bridge still guarded by those Krauts who had stopped us earlier. We were staring at the back of their booth, so if one of us went behind that and went down the bridge to set the explosives, then we could get it. I mean, we only had a few seconds before we had to set the timer and Carter only put it to thirty minutes. The truck was to hit it at 2045 hours, according to Kinch, and not a second less.

I put away the binoculars as I thought and became intent on getting those explosives set. After all, I was supposed to be the faster one of the two of us. I said, "I'll do it, I'm quicker."

Rob wasn't easily fooled by my hasty suggestion. "Nikki, are _you_ out of your mind? The Krauts will spot you quickly. You're still wounded and I don't think the Krauts would want to help you. Likely they'd line you up at the firing squad, after your trial in Berlin. Hitler and Himmler are likely to be in attendance. You are, after all, on the list on most wanted, drawn up by the Gestapo. They still have ways to make you talk, _Desertstar_."

"Not if I moved swiftly and quietly," I talked quickly, without knowing about Rob's worry. "Besides, I'm fine. Somebody needs to watch that agent anyway. It's better you than me. It hits too close to home for me." With that, I snatched the explosives and tape out of the front of Rob's uniform and darted away from him before he could say or do anything to contradict me. I dashed to the back to the guards' booth and put my back to it, making sure that the guards were too far away to see me. They were busy with a crossing general who demanded entry, so this was my first and last chance. I crotched down and went half-kneeling and half-running, to the bottom of the bridge, downhill, and avoided getting wet in the creek by jumping on rocks and searching for the perfect support beam. Finding it and holding the safer side of the explosives with my mouth, I climbed up the bridge from the support beam, far away from the spotlight. Even if it'll be caught, nobody could do anything about it, anyway.

When I was up a safe distance from danger, where the package won't be noticed, I took the explosives out of my mouth and got the tape out of my uniform pocket. It was hard balancing myself on a beam with my leg and the other trying to hold the explosives as I taped. I just barely got the explosives secured and set before sliding down the beam.

Boy, that really agitated my wounds. _All right, Rob's doing this next time, no arguing, hands down. For all I care, he could shot me or give me that court martial he always promises_, I thought as I headed back to the booth, vigilantly stepping over stones and hiding. The light was shining towards where I was as I went up, but had just missed me as I dove and hid behind the stall again. By then, I heard Gestapo cars and sirens in the distance by then (it was after the last bunch of brass left), passing by the bridge, so I can safely assume that it was Hochstetter and his crew coming with Carter and Newkirk or whoever was over at Hozellenan's place. Sure enough, I saw those patrol cars and the Luftwaffe trucks. There was also a staff car for the top brass – Klink and Burkhalter, I presumed. _Their meeting was cut short, and for what? Prisoners escaping and causing chaos, that's why. We'd better get going soon then._

Rob, who had before been watching from me from a distance in the woods, had crawled closer, dragging the body with him. He motioned for me to come back. I waited until the guards were busy with the Gestapo and Luftwaffe before moving out. And when I got back, I knew I was in for another argument, but something different came out of Rob's mouth.

"Nikki, sometimes I don't know whether I want to court martial you or kiss you right there," Rob said as I came back. He flashed a smile at me, one that told me I did well for once, despite everything.

I grinned back. I knew what he meant: a good job, but I did it in a way to frustrate the living hell out of him. "I think it is best that we come back to camp," I replied. "The Gestapo is hot on our trials, if not right now. If Nitlz was right that we were missing and not in the barracks, then Hochstetter can shoot us all on the spot if he finds us here, especially in Gestapo uniform. If not, Nitlz can be jailed and incriminated further, like we planned."

Rob kept his smile and ended up kissing me hotly in the lips within a few seconds' time. I savored the moment until I realized that we still had to get back to camp and this wasn't getting us there. I broke away and said, "We had better get back to camp, Colonel Hogan."

Rob, who had just a minute ago enjoyed that personal sparkle together, raised an eyebrow when I addressed him by his proper rank. He went over and picked up our double agent, tossed him on shoulder again and started back in the direction of camp. I went to catch up with him after he walked a few yards, intent on making it back in time for Hochstetter's interrogation, something I'm in no hurry to go to. The whole way back, Rob huffed and staggered about with this dead weight on his shoulders.

~00~

Rob and I came back in time, a record of fifteen minutes and a few miles with that agent in tow (we were half-running and gasping for air). It was 2030 hours and Hochstetter and his goons had been behind us the last two miles. I swear Hochstetter had proof we were agents ourselves just the way that car was moving –_quickly_. And behind him was the singular Luftwaffe truck of Stalag 13 guards, Klink and Burkhalter in a staff car, just as I thought (the two have been behind Hochstetter after the bridge, as I presumed) and Newkirk and Carter in the car with Hochstetter. Rob saw them in a lookout when we stopped, a mile before Stalag 13, and said they looked fine.

"By fine, you mean what?" I snapped at him. He didn't answer me. Even if he reassured me that they were not hurt, I wouldn't believe him anyhow.

Kinch was in the tunnel when we came back. We were throwing off the uniforms and changing quickly into our own as Kinch said through the curtains in the changing rooms by the radio room, "Colonel Hogan, Hochstetter –"

Ron interrupted him. "I know, Kinch, just get this agent tied up and secured before he wakes up." I saw him across the room stick his head out, indicating the body we left on the floor, comfortably positioned, and nod his head. "We know who he is but just what his mission is remains dubious. Questioning will be later. Where's LeBeau?"

"Watching out for Schultz and the Gestapo, Colonel Hogan," Kinch answered as he got out a chair and tied up our lost teen-ager. "We just found out that they were coming. LeBeau said he'll call us up as soon as they come."

Rob and I came out as soon as everything was in order. Before long, though, I heard the tunnel entrance above us collapse and everyone ducked just in case it was the Gestapo.

"Kinch, are they here yet?" I heard the confident, yet angry voice of LeBeau. It was a much safer person to deal with than what we had thought.

"We're back here, LeBeau, just get the men in position," Rob called back. "Let's get back up ourselves," he added. He grabbed me by the wrist (it's amazing how thin it still is, I swear) and pulled me up the ladder, just like the first time I was down here. Kinch followed behind us as we went back to the barracks. The men were in their sleeping or reading-letters positions (some were already getting ready to hit the sack, for real, early as it was) and everything seemed normal for us P.O.W.'s. Kinch resumed his position of making coffee for tomorrow morning. Rob and I went back to the Colonel's quarters to put the finishing touches of our uniforms on (the dummies were gone from the quarters then, just as we came in, and only thrown down in the tunnels by Wilson and Kearns), just in time to hear the sirens of the Gestapo cars and the barking of the dogs outside. Hochstetter was here and we were prepared and in our regular uniforms. My neck didn't prickle as Hochstetter banged the door open, his goons searching the barracks for us, guns in their hands.


	10. Interrogated by the Germans

About a few minutes later, 2035 hours, Rob and I were dragged into Klink's office on Hochstetter's orders. Present and well accounted for: one of Gestapo goons that dragged us out of the barracks, Newkirk and Carter (very well and not hurt, thank G-D!), Major Hochstetter, Burkhalter, Schultz, Klink and Rob and myself, of course. The purpose of this unusual meeting is to find out why Nitlz unreasonably called for Carter and Newkirk's escape but also ordered a wild goose chase trying to find me and Rob, who, Schultz said, were missing from an initial count when Nitlz went to bed, _after_ ordering the bedcheck (there was no mention of Rob in the Gestapo uniform and me being sick). _Then_ we reappear by some miracle. Plus, Hochstetter wanted answers on why Carter and Newkirk had papers, signed by said captain, which condemned him as a traitor to the Third Reich. Notice that the Captain is not here: Schultz mentioned, before Burkhalter called for silence in the crowded office, that he was sleeping still.

We prisoners sat in a ring around Klink's desk next to Burkhalter, who is obviously irritated that he's disturbed at this time and returning from Berlin with Klink the F.I.N.K. Klink was sitting at his desk, very nervous as usual (I was hoping he'd stay quiet, that fool, but alas). That Gestapo guard and Schultz stood by the door in attention while Hochstetter paced the office and studied the false papers that Carter and Newkirk carried with them in their escape. Hochstetter was very angry and I knew he wanted answers…_now_.

"Major, what is the meaning of this meeting? We know that the prisoners escaped, that Nitlz is a fool and we have papers to convict him. Just arrest him already!" Burkhalter was yelling.

Hochstetter swiveled to face Burkhalter and gave him a menacing stare. I guess that he and the General evidently don't like each other for the Major snapped back bravely after his antipathy. "General, I have evidence that these prisoners are part of a spying ring and that they might be working with the Captain and local Underground units! I have more evidence that this woman here is –"

Klink interjected, "Major, this is impossible! There has been no –"

"Klink, shut up!" Burkhalter said. "Let us have Colonel Hogan explain it."

Hochstetter then grinned that smile of his in agreement, the one that always made my neck tingle with fear. "Yes, let's hear from Colonel Hogan," Hochstetter said chillingly. This time Hochstetter, like every Kraut in this room, was falling into Rob's trap. He thinks we're involved, but if Rob can convince him that it was something that Nitlz ordered, we'll be fine. If Hochstetter thinks otherwise, we're doomed.

Ron stood up. "Major, General, Kommandant and company, allow me to explain. My men here in this room –" he motioned to them, "were called in by the Captain earlier this afternoon and were sworn not to tell me anything. I have thought, because they never said anything, that there was something sinister afoot. I and the Colonel here didn't know that they were ordered to escape or that they had some pretty nifty papers –"

"Hogan, shut up and confess!" Hochstetter yelled, slamming his fist on Klink's desk. This just made our cowardly Kommandant Klink cringe.

Then I tried my best because Rob's unsurpassed mumble-jumble just got him into trouble with Hochstetter. I stood up. _Oh boy…Rob was supposed to convince them, not me._ "Oh, Major Hochstetter, he's correct. The men came into the barracks this afternoon and were seen, by other prisoners, packing their belongings. They had German money, a flashlight, maps and other accessories you have found on them except, I saw no papers. We didn't know how they were going to escape. I also had no idea if they dug a tunnel or not. I mean, how can they escape the toughest P.O.W. camp in all of Germany?"

"What about being missing from the bedcheck?" Klink demanded as Burkhalter looked at him with disgust. I almost could have sworn that Burkhalter had whispered for Klink to shut up instead of telling it to Klink like he usually does. _Being a tough camp kommandant, my ass…_

"We were still in bed sleeping," I added quickly. "Colonel Hogan and I are usually deep into the covers – it is kind of cold here at night – and I don't think the guards looked carefully enough. I'm pretty sure that we were in our quarters…although I swear I was home for a few moments and on the beach, enjoying the sunshine in a New England summer."

"Is that so, Colonel?" Burkhalter got up from his chair and went over to where I was sitting. He stroked by chin and said, "This is good enough of an explanation for me. The Captain merely was trying to play with us."

_So, the General's weakness is pretty women and Klink's was his pride and his life._ I noticed that Klink was beaming about my comment about the "toughest P.O.W. camp in all of Germany" after recovering from his near-miss with Hochstetter and Burkhalter. I guess it gave him some security. Burkhalter, meanwhile…I can play with him now. Thank G-d!

Hochstetter, however, wasn't pleased. "What about Hogan and his men?" he yelled.

"Nothing, Major, unless you find Colonel Michalovich guilty of nothing," the General said. He continued to stroke my chin, smiling and flirting with me. I wasn't really buying the attention but played along. I mean, I can toy with the General anytime now; at least he has my trust. "Major, you seem to have this obsession with Hogan, Michalovich and the prisoners of Stalag 13. Perhaps you should focus on something else?" Burkhalter was trying to penetrate into my eyes and talk to Hochstetter at the same time, but it wasn't working very well. He had more attention paid to me.

"Yes, Major, focus on something else," Klink said suddenly, out of the blue.

"Klink, shut up!" Burkhalter stopped his flirting with me and turned to face our beloved kommandant. He was red in the face, finally relieved by saying what he wanted to say for a while, I bet. "You should stop taking so many vacations and look to other men for command, for you chose bad candidates for your seat."

"Yes, General Burkhalter, I should stop taking so many vacations and look to other venues of command for I chose bad candidates for my seat…"Klink repeated after Burkhalter. He went down in his seat, deeply defeated and embarrassed.

Rob, who was still standing up and very happy I saved the day this time, roused his men out of their seats. "Well, if you excuse us Gentlemen, we had better get to bed. We have roll call –"

"Hogan, wait a minute!" Klink stood up suddenly from his seat and almost knocked himself over the desk. "Your men should be punished for escaping."

"Oh, let them off Klink, they were just doing as Nitlz told them to do," Burkhalter said. _That_ was weird coming out of the General's mouth. _The prisoners are going without punishment? _Well, then again, Burkhalter _was_ flirting with me. He seems to like me. And who doesn't, other than Hochstetter, I mean?

Suddenly, an enormous series of bangs sounded, indicating that the mission in getting those ammo trucks, dump and bridge was a success, but not the agent we caught. I wondered what was next for Jozef von Rumey.

The Krauts hit the floor and, when seeing there is no danger in camp a few seconds later, got up. Hochstetter was eying us: the four of us hit the floor along with them, but didn't appear to be frightened enough to Hochstetter. That didn't matter at all. _Bingo_! I thought. _We got it, another victory for the Allies and its Underground!_

The other men got up after they saw Rob picked himself up. "Yes, Kommandant, they were following orders from the acting Kommandant Nitlz, so if you'd excuse us…" Rob grabbed my elbow and I got up and followed him, as well as Carter and Newkirk, back to the barracks. Behind us, Klink gave some demand: Schultz was told to keep us in the barracks at all costs as punishment and that we were to be confined until further notice (I guess Burkhalter's order of no punishment went unheeded and Hochstetter's scare tactics frightened Klink into giving us something to remind us that there is no escape from Stalag 13).

Anyhow, I was out the door with Rob, Newkirk and Carter when I heard the orders by Burkhalter for Nitlz to be awakened and arrested. Our double agent, according to Kinch later on when the punishment was enforced on all men, is still out and will be tied up for a while. What still remains is what our double agent's mission is and how he got himself into this mess. He's only sixteen years old and a child. How can he put himself into this game called spying? _How?_


	11. The Captain Talks?

**August 11  
****The Barracks – 1120 Hours**

Well, Nitlz has had his quick trial here (it was in the Recreation Hall – we listened through our bug in there – and was it a riot) and that firing squad is just wiping the filth off its dusty guns. Nitlz is to die at sunup two days hence on Burkhalter's orders. He has been guilty of treason against the Third Reich – conspiring and using Allied prisoners to his usage – and misusing his command. The latter charge isn't that much of a charge, more of a slap on the wrist, but the former will have him killed.

Our other trouble, the double agent Jozef von Rumey, meanwhile, has been giving us so much trouble that we have been keeping him unconscious and tied up though it hurts me to do that. I mean, a little hitting him in the face won't hurt (according to Newkirk). I like the more merciful method: putting a sleeping pill in his water. I don't want to hurt him more than he already is (I think hitting him once is enough). I also try to stay away from him after putting him to sleep. Yes, he's related to me (it took me a while to accept it) and has even believed the lies about me. He even had to decency to say yesterday, "Jewish bitch, you killed my father!" before LeBeau put the water glass to his mouth. Who else but my family (and the rest of Germany in league with them) call me that? And, he has the name and heritage of von Rumey's family on him. He is really George's son.

Rob isn't happy about the way things are going, though. He keeps pacing his quarters or the barracks' main room. When Kinch or somebody in his crew asks him what bothers him, he gives that faraway look of his and says, "Nothing." It stills worries them.

I'm becoming concerned about Rob. Just this morning, when we woke for roll call, I ordered that he see me when roll call is over, something I rarely do (order, I mean). You know the remark that he gave me? "Desertstar, you can't cure stupidity." He put on his bombers' jacket and hat and went out the door without a single hair brush or quick shave.

_Stupidity, what about it?_ We just bagged some pain in the ass Kraut captain and he thinks about himself as not thinking clearly? What's going on here? Worse, today he has ordered me not to come to his quarters today, not even when it's bedtime. Now, where am I to sleep tonight? The floor looks comfortable to me, but it's dirty from a lack of cleaning and the men aren't good about it.

"Gov'ness, I'd gladly let you have my bunk 'onight," Newkirk offered. I think I'll decline all offers until this has been solved (I'll even sleep on the floor if it comes to that, dirty or not). It makes my head spin just thinking about it. I think I'll sneak in and talk to Nitlz for a while and ask him about something that's been bothering me. Something has _got_ to give.

Kinch just came up to me and said Rob went into Klink's office. Come to think about it, I have some work to do. I need some answers to questions that I've been wondering since seeing Nitlz lucid. I _need_ to see Nitlz and Schultz is not going to let me through unless I had some of great worth. I think I have to use some bribery and force to get my way.

**Later – Afternoon  
****Outside Klink's Office – 1515 Hours**

I just finished talking with Nitlz in the cooler. He thought that I was Mother, so I played along with him to get information. Boy, did I get some. He explained to me some personal things that have been bothering me of late and I had some answers. He knew where he was in a way (prison), it was just that he thought it was on another plane or a different place. It was how I described earlier: he wanted out of his agony. The cooler and his trial and death sentence didn't register with him at the time.

It pretty much answered some questions I've had for a long time about Mother and the small nagging voices in the back of my mind. Rob was right. We have to get him out of there before his execution! We were playing with the wrong person at the wrong time and we just used him to get out for a mission (it was stupid, I'll admit it). We just had to make him disappear someplace safer, not have him killed off by the Krauts. I was so stupid to think that we were on the right track. If only we could spring him _now_. Damn, I can't think anymore. I have to find Rob and construct some plan to get Nitlz out of there and into a camp or an institution in England. I don't wish to discuss my discoveries of Nitlz and Mother right now. It is too disturbing.

Oh, no…Carter is cleaning up the camp, through Klink's orders, and those kid guards are starting to rough him up. I'd better stop them before anything happens. I owe Carter that much. He needs to get out of trouble and somebody's gotta be there for him. Let's see what I can do now.


	12. Playacting for Information

**August 15  
****The Colonel's Quarters – 1240 Hours**

"Nikki, the next time you do that, I'm personally going to court martial you!"

Those were the first words I heard out of Rob's mouth when I awoke on this dark and drizzly morning. Well, it was the second thing I was conscious of. The first thing was waking up, feeling someone's hand holding mine. I was lying down in my bunk and I hurt all over. I mean, I was bandaged at my chest, forehead and right wrist, side and shoulder (surprise of surprises). I opened my eyes and there was a crowd in Rob's quarters: Rob himself was holding my hand, Carter (bandaged at the head, bruised and looking _very_ guilty), Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Wilson. After Rob said that, he let go of my hand and banged out of his quarters, quite angry. I figured that he won't be talking to me for a _long_ time.

"That went over well," LeBeau murmured as the door slammed shut.

"Well, 'lad to see you awake anyway, gov'ness!" Newkirk said cheeringly.

Aren't people happy, indeed! All I remember was running to get Carter out of some mess the kid guards were creating and being trampled upon. I saw that he was fine before me, but before, trying to get him out, he was trying his hardest not to fight back – he knew that it meant the cooler – and at the same time, wanting to get out of the way. Either way, I could have endangered him more, gotten myself into trouble or even got us more hurt than we already are.

Then I felt the need to explain Rob. I sat up and felt so dizzy I had to struggle to stay upright. "Don't worry about him. He's usually not angry very –"

"Don't move anymore, Colonel!" Wilson, always faster than I am, came to my side and was trying to get me to lie back down and _still_.

I cooperated, to a point, because I knew that I had more important things to accomplish and vital information to share. I had to get Nitlz out of the cooler, if he hasn't been keeping his appointment with the firing squad, that is. I also had to tell Rob about what I found out, because I knew he would be the only one to understand, and solve some of the mysteries from the past. However, something was bothering me and it had to do with Nitlz and his execution.

"What day is it?" I asked over all this hovering by Wilson and this awkward silence by the others. I swear, nobody was saying anything after Wilson's sudden move on me.

Kinch looked over. "It's August 15, Colonel," he said.

_So, that means that Nitlz is…?_ "Nitlz is in the tunnel tied up and ready to leave, on yours and Colonel Hogan's orders. He has escaped execution," LeBeau added hurriedly.

So, Nitlz missed his death sentence! Good for him! (_I passed an order to have him tied up in the tunnels? When was this?_) However, that means I can have more answers to my questions and make sure he's sent to the right place, via the Underground. Then, I can take care of that German sergeant/agent Jozef, who according to Kinch, is also still tied up and ready to be handed over to the other Underground agents as well. _He's_ been the most trouble so far. I can figure that out, no matter if I am around or not. It's been running in the family, after all. All of us have made trouble _somewhere_.

After worrying for no reason, Wilson was irritated. So, he decided to kick each person out. As an excuse, he said, "The Colonel's already had too much excitement for a few days. Tell Colonel Hogan he can see her later."

While everybody grumbled and yelled their good wishes to me, Wilson closed the door. "Now, it's my turn to give the orders," he said happily. I gave in. What more could I do? I've been ordered to stay in bed. It is worse that Rob's ordered me to do the same, according to Wilson. I think he's still angry at me of this brainless move to keep Carter out of trouble.

**August 16  
****The Colonel's Quarters – 1530 Hours**

I'm still in here on Wilson's orders, but at least Rob and I finally spoke about what has been going on the past few days. He popped his head in after I wrote last and asked for forgiveness instead of me asking for it. I laughed. Usually, he takes it as I've forgiven him as usually I follow what Father has taught me: to forgive and forget, although in many cases, I will never do that.

"Let's get down to business then," Rob said, disrupting my thoughts of home (it seemed so long ago that I saw Father in good health!), as he grabbed a chair from his desk. He dragged it beside the bunk and asked me, in detail, what the conversation was with Nitlz the day I went to visit him in the cooler and before those guards beat me instead of Carter.

I started: "Well Rob, I was more on the intent on looking for you and talking about this Kraut, but at the same time, I was figuring out how to get Nitlz out of the cooler. He's still as innocent as Klink. However, he is just as ruthless when let loose. In other words, he has valuable military information and he can give it out without realizing it. I wanted some information about Mother and who he really is, too. More was the reason to see him, since I think he wanted to clear something up. I saw you talking to Klink in his office, so I left you alone and went to the cooler. Schultz was guarding of course, so some Red Cross packages with chocolate did the trick after I was denied previously without any.

"I got into the hallway and Schultz directed me to where Nitlz was held. He unlocked it for me and said, 'Five minutes!' More chocolate, obviously, changed his mind. 'You can have ten…no, twenty minutes and no more.' He upped my time after I kissed him on the lips and gave him more chocolate. I'm sorry I got rid of my supply for the month, but I think it was worth it.

"But anyhow, when I arrived inside the cell, I saw that Nitlz was sleeping, so Schultz had to wake him up. His eyes were glassy and he was very groggy, as if he was drunk. This was really the eyes and face of someone sick. I've been it before, so trust me and don't argue.

"His first words were, 'Victoria, you came back for me!' I had to say something back to that affect, for he wasn't going to be convinced at that moment that I was her little girl that grew to look like her mother unless he figured it out. So, I decided to play with his head much as I hated doing that. I played the part of my mother, no matter how much it hurt me too.

"I replied, 'Yes, I have come back –' I couldn't finish my sentence because he was decided to come up from his bunk and was giving me a sloppy kiss. I accepted it, just to get him going on what I needed to know: something about him and my mother. Well, after that kiss, he pulled me down next to him in his hard bunk.

"Nitlz had me sit down closer than what I was comfortable with. He held onto me, clung onto me like a lifejacket, and said, 'Victoria, do you remember those days in Dessau, when we were children? It was before your marriage. We used to link our arms and roll down to the stream. You did the laundry there and we always met there in Wednesdays.'

"'_Ja_, I remember,' I whispered, having no clue in hell what I was going into.

"'Victoria, why did you agree to marry that old man von Rumey? All he ever wanted was boys and more money from your family. He lost his wife and needed more heirs because his only son was an invalid and he could not be seen. So, why throw away my love for you so that you can become wealthy?'

"I had to think of something fast. Knowing Mother, I answered, 'I was only doing my duty for my family. They tell me where to go. I love you and will never let you leave me now.'

"I was hoping that I sounded like Mother, and in the very least, what she sounded like to people she loved. I never knew how that was since I never saw her love anyone or anything. I never knew she was in love with Nitlz at an early age, I just thought they were friends by the way he talked to me beforehand. After thinking about the day in barracks, maybe it became much more than, and after so many years and troubled times later there is always that one true someone in his mind there: my mother, who he mistakes as me and thinks went behind his back. I mean, I _know_ he was that same person who came to her home when I was small. I _know_ I remember something like that. I am sure, despite the fact that she had so many people over there. I remember that he kept mistaking me for Mother when they were younger and then threatening to kill me when he noticed that I was who I really am. I don't know nor do I wish to remember.

"He went on babbling anyhow. 'Duty, it is all you talk about! We all have to do it sometime, but you ran off with that Russian, you had that child in America and now she's on the run. Did you get rid of Hozellenan?'

"'Hozellenan has been murdered.' I couldn't say anything more, contemplating about this eerie fog Nitlz was in. He even put forward his confidence in the war. 'Hitler has taken us far and wide and we are winning this war, I can feel it! Victoria, please come back to me, we can live the rest of our lives together in Switzerland. Let us leave this rotten cell and leave Germany for good! That was such a trial that they gave me. I am sure that it is a test of my loyalty.'

"'Oh, I don't know…' I trialed and was confused and almost speechless as to what to say next.

"'Just please, let's go Victoria! Let's leave this place. We can spy on the Allies.'" I stopped and Rob allowed me time to think, leaning back in his chair. I was becoming embarrassed that I was telling Rob this, and now, thinking back on this, the time in the cooler with Nitlz has got to be one of the most mortifying (not quite embarrassing yet) moments I've had _ever_.

I don't know what was wrong with Nitlz, but I knew that, for one thing, he knew where he was to a point and his love blinded him to what was really in front of him. He knew that he _was_ commanding Stalag 13, but that trial confused him. He didn't know what went on, what his accusations were or even if he really was going to be shot as a traitor. He thought that I was Mother and that, as a loyal German, he could escape the cell and his duties would take him elsewhere because he was loyal enough. He certainly had periods of this perplexity and insanity. I can tell you the uproar he had when he was brought to the cooler and then to trial. I can't even begin to _explain_ it.

I went on describing everything to Rob as he raised an eyebrow when I stopped. "He convinced me, Rob, and I knew that a nutcase in Nazi Germany is worse than one in England. At least he can be treated and put into a camp or institution. I know he has military secrets from the Krauts and we can use him whenever. That was why I wanted to get him out of there."

"And we did, Nikki," Rob replied, shaking his head at my strange performance and how the pieces of the puzzled past came together. "I had Carter trigger an explosive, against Wilson's orders. We made the Krauts believe that he killed himself with some explosives that nobody bothered to check for. The Krauts think that they were careless with their security and that, with the explosion they had no chance to make the news with another execution of a faithless Nazi. We even left his uniform for future use."

I was so surprised by this that I jumped back, hitting my head against the top of the bunk. I sunk lower into the bunk and saw stars. This was cunning and unbelievable.

"Nikki, are you alright?" I opened my eyes and nodded my head. "Nikki, he's in the tunnel and has been fighting as any Nazi should."

"Being insinuated as a Nazi is enough to make him insane," I groaned, my hand on my head, thinking of what I could have done with it _this_ time. What happened there beforehand when I saw Carter, a concussion? Did my brain rattle finally or something?

"It also explains why you're going nuts. You're no spring chicken yourself," Rob popped out.

"Excuse me?" I stopped rubbing my throbbing head and almost socked him one in the face. "I'm just as good in condition as you and the others here!"

Rob laughed at my stubbornness. "Not exactly, Desertstar." His face went darker. "Do you know what happened after you got Carter out?" I shook my head and craned my ears further. Rob sounded serious and I recognized that his tone was sarcastic, as he does when he wanted something or is equally uneasy. I think it was the latter for he was biting his lip.

"Well, Nikki, the Kraut kids kept hitting you over and over again. Carter was only knocked in the head many times. He was delirious and rambling on about how the Krauts got you in a head-lock. He ran for Wilson and Wilson had grounded him to our barracks. Nobody told me what happened until an hour they started. Afterward I came out of Kink's office, I saw the men gather around the guards and trying to get somebody out. Kinch was pushing me back into the barracks and everyone was trying to hide you."

"Concerned men," I said, trying to defend the other prisoners.

"No, these are men who don't want the truth to be told to their commanding officer" Rob snapped. "They're protecting me for no reason, _no reason at all_, and this time it wasn't necessary. I only saw you after Newkirk and Wilson carried you in. Carter was sitting on his bunk. When I saw you and then Carter, I knew what happened."

Just hearing this made me suddenly feel feverish and I sunk lower into my bunk. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on something other than the pain. Everything was erupting, especially where I was shot, and I couldn't think. Exchanging stories and arguing has made me tired again. "So, here I am I guess. Requesting permission to speak bluntly, Sir?"

Rob was startled and laughed. "Permission denied, Colonel. You appear to be too sick for words. I'm leaving this conversation at Nitlz. We'll talk to your double agent when you get better." I smiled as I felt his hands rubbing my head, the way he did after our little baby Michael was born.

"Oh, why can't that be now?" I asked, yawning as I tried to talk.

"Well, he's your nephew. I think his aunt might be better off sleeping than trying to tackle him by herself," Rob answered. And with that, I felt asleep.

Nothing new has developed since nor has anything of interest come out of Nitlz's mouth. He was picked up by a specialized agent this morning. Nitlz left, yelling behind him, "I may serve myself and Victoria first, but I would rather spare my life for Hitler!" And his sanity seemed to be with him that time except the workings of his mind have had its aim on his esteemed leader, faraway in Berlin.

I'm feeling kind of lonely right now. I'm wondering how Rob is and where he might be right now. Is he bribing Klink again, right now? Or is he trying to figure out what happened to me prior to seeing him in this exile? I know that he's been trying to get that information for months, but I can't say a word. He's been trying to jack his way to my footlocker where I kept my keepsakes of the previous camp: the uniform I've worn for those months with its triangles, fragments of shells from the factory, a piece of the bunks I've slept in, all because I had hidden them in my uniform…the memories I've kept tightly within my mind. I can tell Rob's been doing it. I catch him every time. Every time I do, we get into an argument. "Nikki, what the hell are you hiding? The Krauts take ethnicities and stuff them into a camp like this. What's worse than this rat hole? We've heard it all in London and it was dismissed as propaganda from the Krauts. We said that they killed children living on the Allied side during the last war and it wasn't true. What would this be any worse?"

"Rob, you'll never understand. The Krauts have something worse than this place, it's worse than hell. It's a chance to tamper with Fate and Death, it's an unspeakable piece of life best left alone," I argued. "And this time, it's true. _Why_ would I _lie_ to you?" Usually, with that, I leave. Rob will never understand. He kept referring to it as propaganda, much like those brutalities we hear about from the last war. And yet, every argument pieces my heart. I don't want Rob to think such things.


	13. Confrontation in the Tunnels

**August 20  
****The Tunnels – 2350 Hours**

I'm trembling right now. I have just finished rounding up Jozef. Another agent, from Unit 9, is coming for him. I feel so awful that I have sent Nitlz to England but _now_ I have to send Jozef to a prison camp in England. Just as he sent me off to be a prisoner, he's heading to a prison camp in England, all in thanks to me (we'll each know what it is like in the enemies' camps). Not to mention, he has no family left except for me. His parents are dead (his mother had been killed by the Nazis, as I've found out from my personal research of this evening's radio contact with Headquarters). His grandmother and uncles are dead. Plus, he has no cousins and is the only child of his generation (I remember him being born, before Mother left for Germany again, but had no idea that he incorporated himself into German society easily). The only living relative of his is sending him away for his own good because he's on a different side.

Rob has tried telling me that it would be a better and more humane thing to do for this side (and the operation, for that matter, since it's in danger everyday) instead of letting him run hog-wild through the tunnels and trying to shoot everybody, just like earlier today. "There should be something much improved than this!" I argued again. "Couldn't London Headquarters use Jozef as a tool, as Nitlz, and create roles for him, if he agrees to some conditions?" I was desperate to have Jozef redeem himself because I believe in him. I believe that he has courage and with the proper conditions, he could be a benefit to us all.

"Not so fast, Desertstar," Rob said, crossing his arms. He had a counterargument ready. "We don't know if he would be sincere with his promises. Granted, he has a habit of trading positions all the time. However, time in a prison camp might loosen his tongue. He might be of use, as Nitlz is now, but not enough to have him taking risks. Headquarters is strict about such things. It would take time to gain his trust and them, his."

I said nothing more, thinking of this morning. A smaller crew has been watching the tunnels. It was about two per barrack because we caught what person had started this mess. LeBeau and Kinch were watching the section under our barracks, the emergency tunnel and exit. Our double agent had been believed unconscious and tied to his chair, for that was what Rob wanted him to be until we had a better chance at talking to him. Eventually, we were going to hand them over to other agents, but not then. After the explosion at the bridge (thanks to us), security has been jacked outside. The Gestapo has had its investigations and the Krauts have been more alert.

Well, roll call was over and Rob and I wanted to get this minor interrogation done and over with. Today was, after all, the first day I felt that I could get out of bed and walk around. Wilson even approved and offered to help me walk. I declined, saying, "I think I have my own support system, thanks." We were talking in Rob's quarters with the door open and discussing how I could get down the ladder to the tunnels. Wilson laughed as I pointed to Rob, who I was referring to in my comment. He was standing near the door and looked puzzled that I even pointed to him.

In due time, Rob and I had to get down to the tunnels and talk to Jozef. I've spitefully and painfully called our double agent or the Sergeant or _him_ until recently. I really shouldn't, for he has a name and he is a human being.

Jozef has admitted (according to Kinch) that he has been messing our tunnel system around (this comment came as Kinch radioed London). That explains some things, but not everything. Who is he really? What is his mission as a Gestapo agent? Why take on the role of a German child, in need of help, seeking asylum with the Allies? These questions plagued me as slowly but surely, I got down to the tunnels. Rob helped me down, knowing all-too-well how many times I get myself into trouble or how it always seems to find me.

When Rob and I got down, we were in for a surprise. Everything was a disaster again. The room was in disarray! The radio was wrecked again, books were scattered, papers were ripped, everything! Rob was alarmed and started yelling, "LeBeau, Kinch, where are you?"

I couldn't move and only could groan, holding back some anger. I was more shocked. All I could do, in my frustration, was put my head in my hands. What happened _this_ time?

Rob ran around our part of the tunnels for a few seconds before finding LeBeau and Kinch coming from behind, from the tunnels near Barracks 6, with guns in their hands to the main room. "Colonel, that sergeant has escaped and…" Kinch was so out of breathe that he couldn't finish.

"Colonel Hogan, he untied himself and wrecked the place. We tried to catch him, but he's a fast little Kraut," LeBeau finished with a flush of red to his face. "When I get my hands on him, I'll –"

"We gotta find him, he could ruin our operation," Rob said, pointing out the obvious before our patriotic Frenchman went wild. LeBeau offered Rob a frustrated face, angry that he was interrupted. _Oh well, he can complain later. His hotheaded attitude isn't getting us anywhere._

"Split up?" Kinch asked.

"Carry the guns and don't hesitate to shoot the kid," Rob answered spitefully. I haven't seen him so angry about something like this before. He grabbed two guns from the cabinet in the room next to the bookshelf and handed me one.

"Be careful," Rob added, gazing especially at me. He knew me too well: thoughtless, even when I was hurting. I knew he wanted me to be with someone on the search, but we also need to keep split up and update each other often.

Kinch then found four walkie-talkies from the other room and handed them out. "Don't hesitate do use those," Kinch said, also stating the obvious. Our codes were agreed upon and anything we found was either reported to Rob or me, who would then inform Rob.

~00~

We split up and went into four different directions. I was following the tunnel that led to the recreation hall and towards Barracks 5 when I heard a crash and then a shot. _I had found him!_ And it hadn't taken me too long, maybe five minutes. But five minutes could also mean the difference between everything.

Jozef was in one of the spare rooms that carried extra guns and ammunition. He was trying to find the light switch (the only one down there, by the way, and it's wired to the barracks upstairs) and get out and the doorway wasn't in his sight. _Oy vey_, I thought as I stood to one side, observing. There isn't a lot of light down this way, just a torch about a few feet away from where we were standing, so it gave me cover however quiet I had to be. And I knew that I had time before Jozef noticed me.

I got out my walkie-talkie and pressed the talk button. As I walked away from that spare room, I said in a whisper, "Papa Bear, this is Desertstar, come in Papa Bear." I got static before Rob got to me. I hoped that Jozef didn't hear the noise (he didn't). Behind me, I heard some tumbling and then a crash. Rob answered me nonetheless.

"This is Papa Bear Desertstar, please report," I heard Rob say. "Kinch saw the package being carried in your direction. LeBeau is meeting you there to –"

"Papa Bear, I found him." I interrupted him and waited for my orders.

"Desertstar, please stay where you are and keep silent and _that's an order_. Be there with the others, do you read?"

"Over and perfectly clear," I answered, almost resenting that I couldn't corner the kid by myself. Like I couldn't handle a child half my age!

"Good. And Nikki, keep your behind there. I'll be on over within a few minutes. Papa Bear, over and out." The line went dead. I flicked off the switch went back to the spare room, making sure to stay outside, seeing what is inside and not being seen. I watched Jozef tumble around the room, still searching for a switch for the lights and trying to find a way out of the room. It gave me thought that perhaps, he has no idea where he is and what he has landed himself in.

Well, at least he hadn't seen me yet and that is all that matters.

About a few minutes later, I was still watching Jozef try to find his way out of a wet paper bag. I mean, he has that von Rumey touch, where sometimes, the simplest tasks turn into the hardest Herculaneum missions. It was entertaining for a while as it was some time before I had company. I wasn't aware that behind me, LeBeau, Kinch and Rob had snuck up to join me. I saw a red sweater and relaxed. It was only LeBeau. I saw that behind him were Rob and Kinch. Both had their gun safety off and it was ready for use. I switched mine off (I didn't bother to do so earlier in the radio room) and as I did so, I thought that shooting the child wasn't the answer. Jozef needed to be reasoned with and I was the only one qualified. Besides, what was the point in shooting him when he has done the same to me? What are we achieving here?

Rob crouched down lower and ordered that we do the same. I obeyed, but my neck prickled as soon as Rob quickly crossed to the other side of the doorway. He ducked as he heard another shot come out of the room. This told me that Jozef was trying to find out where the doorway was by using a supply of bullets. Well, I didn't want anything to happen to Rob and even Jozef, to a point. I had no choice but to stop Rob from hurting him.

I turned to Kinch and LeBeau and said, "LeBeau, Kinch, stay here. Let me talk with Colonel Hogan." Kinch and LeBeau didn't even bother to contradict me and they knew that I was angry when I was.

I crawled over to where Rob was and gently tapped his shoulder. This time, the one and only time I could save him from this, he became angry. "Nikki, where are you doing here? This isn't the Officers' Club Massacre, you know!" Rob's eyes flashed anger. "There isn't anything to dull whatever pain you have in that insane head of yours and then take it out on the first person who comes over!" He briefly mentioned our joke about the Officers' Club Massacre, one event in our military lives that I could have done without. I had gotten very drunk, apparently, and I thought everyone was out to get me (I think this was about a month after our child died), but Rob got me out before the fight that I had started in the Officers' Club got me killed. Not to mention, after that particular day, we did have some serious time in the infirmary (I had to be sedated because I kept fighting, so I was groggy for months) and it took a while before I was cleared of all charges. So, a silly gag was born. Well, we usually bring it up when one thinks there isn't trouble but the other does, and in this case, I knew there was trouble about.

"Rob, if you'd listen to me, then there'd _be_ no massacre at the Officers' Club," I said with confidence. "Let me talk to him. He wouldn't dare shoot his own family, even if we are enemies. There is always that familial love. I felt it for my mother and stepbrothers, no matter what happened to them. Why do you think I was upset for a while?" Rob hesitated. I'm sure that he was thinking this over logically. I bet that he was even surprised that I mentioned it.

Upon thinking on it after a few seconds, Rob waved me on. He motioned to a confused Kinch and LeBeau, over my shoulder, to hold fire until he or I called for it. The three of them would be my back-up in case I get shot or even if I was killed. Rob will call for gunfire, whether I liked it or not.

The hallway was still dark and damp and that lone torch still glowed in the hallway beyond me. I gulped and went into the room quickly. As soon as I hit the light switch, I ducked my head and hit the ground yelling, "Safety off, safety off!" with reason, even though the three behind me already had them as such. Jozef, when he saw us through the light, was aimlessly and recklessly shooting his gun. He was quickly running out of bullets, thankfully for us. I could tell that more than half of his supply in the gun was gone already.

Rob, Kinch and LeBeau were right behind me in an instant and they too, dropped themselves to the ground, avoiding to the deadly spray that was coming out. This time, it was more erratic because of the company: the more, the merrier. Jozef was trapped, either way, and no matter what he did, he would run out of bullets. Eventually, we could overcome him, if he wasn't strong enough.

"_Arbeit macht frei_,Jozef!" I yelled over and over in this potentially lethal bloodbath. It's the only thing that he can understand. Auschwitz, where he has sent me, reminds him of what work is: a freedom. At the same time, I continued to count shots. He kept shooting. And suddenly, he had one shot left and it left him no choice but to stop because the last one is always the one that counts.

I lifted my head up. Jozef had collapsed in a corner, his gun thrown aside. He had closed his eyes and was gasping for his breath. He looked down for the count. I couldn't be sure and I had to check. Sure as hell, I'm going to talk some sense to him, whether he tries to kill me or not. Even if he has that gun pointed at me, he won't kill me. I know it.

I got up, only to have Rob yell at me, "Nikki, down!" I turned to face him behind me, but Jozef was swiftly behind me, grabbing onto me and holding his gun to my head. I felt the barrel nuzzle itself to my head. It was a tight fit indeed, buried in the thin tangle of hair. _All according to my improvised plan, I guess_, I thought with some worry. I didn't even see him coming from in front of me and there he was. I sort of expected it.

"At last, the Jewish sorceress is in my hands and prepared to die for her crimes. How proud the German people will be when a spy dies," Jozef said. "It would be better when Hochstetter hears that he was right all along, that there is an operation here. Nobody believed me at first, except for Hochstetter. I was right and I can prove it. And the famous Desertstar is the part of its core with Papa Bear." He was beaming with pride.

LeBeau picked up his head and started, "Sergeant, you're making –"

"Shut up or she dies!" Jozef snared holding me up and the gun closer to my head. This was my only chance to speak.

I started to talk in German so the others didn't understand me or the plan I was making up as I went. "_Arbeit macht frei_,Jozef…don't you remember that? Work shall set you free. You sent me there. You shot me so that you could be promoted, so that you can say that you caught a spy trying to escape. She was almost successful, her and her comrade-in-arms, and oh, boy, did I catch her, I even shot her, my own aunt! You tried to be brave in a cruel world where the weak-minded are easily told 'Here, go shot some people who were only doing their duty.' How can you be so malicious to those who have tried to help after the Empire's downfall? How can Hitler try to put the blame on people who have been a scapegoat to many of history's problems for centuries? I mean it. Can you take the truth that Hitler is misrepresenting this country? Can this country _ever_ look upon theirs and the world's problems and try to fix them instead of gripping their fists and blaming others? Do you see any magnificence in the death of others, no matter what side they're on? I just lost a friend because of this mess. Are you willing to kill another?"

I could feel Jozef's hesitation in the way he moved the barrel of his gun. Then I felt it go back to my head. _He was going to kill me after all?_ _I have to think quickly!_ Then I thought of another plan. I wanted to undertake something else, something I wasn't intent on using unless he was that desperate. Well, I was desperate as well and wanted this to end.

I spoke in English this time. "Jozef, go ahead and kill me." I gulped and turned to the faces before me, making sure that they heard. I saw their dire reactions. LeBeau and Kinch were shocked at what I said. Rob was putting his hands into his head and was lowering it, waiting for the bullet that will kill me. I couldn't see his face otherwise. I could sob if this backfired. I actually wanted to_ live_.

Therefore I continued my ranting to Jozef just to prolong my life and say some final words, if necessary. "Yes, go ahead and kill me, you know you want to. Finish the job like you always wanted to. I am, after all, one of the last members of our family. I am a total outcast, but it doesn't matter to you. After all, I am the dirt you stand on, the scum of the Earth and an insult to the human race. Is this what you stand for? Do you want to kill an already dying ethnicity? If so, just destroy me now and get it over with. I've said my peace." I closed my eyes and waited for the end I encouraged. The barrel of that gun still remained trembling next to me. Then, it moved away from my head. I heard the clank of the gun against the floor.

Jozef had dropped the gun. It fired its last shot at the wall as it banged against the floor. He loosened his grip on me and before I could know what went on, I was long gone from his side. LeBeau and Kinch were quick to react to this, and in a few seconds flat, Jozef was in our hands again. Rob still remained seated on the floor, scared and trying hard not to yell at my carelessness again. The former he usually succeeds in holding back, but the latter he can never control. His anger is just as legendary as mine.

"Colonel, I'm really going to court martial you," Rob said. "What the hell were you doing, reverse psychology?" I could only smile at him. I was hurting again because of that and I didn't realize it until that moment. I guess Wilson was right: today was going to be too much excitement and I needed help.

Beside me, LeBeau and Kinch were taking our intruder away, the real culprit in entire this mess. I wanted to go back to my bunk and rest. Before I left for my bunk, though, I needed to say something. I past Rob and said, "This answers all the questions that have been nagging me. Temptation is still far from it." Then, I walked out, indicating that he can put me on trial for all I cared. And you know, Rob never tried to follow me out.


	14. Safe at Last

**August 23  
****The Barracks – 1340 Hours**

Everything has been getting back to normal in a way. Last night, Rob called off all patrols in the tunnels, so everyone is relieved in sleeping soundly in their bunks for now and not arguing over shifts and who goes down in the tunnels. Nitlz has started to reveal military information to our agent (he can never go back to Germany for he is legally dead to the Germans and his life will be forfeit nonetheless). Jozef has calmly gone with another agent this morning. He has been silent for the entire operation to get him there to the agent, but he only spoke a few whispered words to me as he went out the emergency tunnel: "I'm sorry, Flower Aunt," he said in German before our agent led him away. _Flower Aunt_…it is good enough for now. It's going to be a long start to a lost and muddied relationship, but it'll do.

Newkirk and Carter have gotten off the hook with Hochstetter. At least they're all fine. The only punishment the two rogues got was four days solitary confinement on Klink's orders. Well, it was more like Hochstetter's prompting and constant nagging. Kinch and LeBeau continue their duties here as usual and both are sneaking in food to Newkirk and Carter, via the tunnels, so everything's going to be all right.

To me though, this is the preeminent part of all. Yesterday, I was laying down resting and Rob came in and sat down, working on our next mission, something that came in as soon as Hochstetter left, just in mere hours. Apparently, another visiting general has some papers in a briefcase that we need to photograph. However, that briefcase is locked to his wrist and we need to know why and get the contents out, photographed and passed on.

Well, Rob didn't notice that I was resting on my bunk until I cleared my throat. I only wanted to tell him some story and I meant to grab his attention. He was startled, anyhow. I laughed and said in his fear-filled face, "Do you want to hear a story about someone who had high hopes but that somehow her optimism went wrong?"

Rob was agitated, for I knew this mission was going to be tougher than most. It was the usual attitude he has when something needs to be done and he needs to think out a plan carefully before acting out anything. He snapped at me and I didn't_ mind_ at all because he had a right to yell at me. I did scare him so much these past few days.

Working on his plans again in his mind, Rob said with much anger in his voice, "Enlightened me, Nikki, and be quick. We have to rip off the contents of that briefcase and send it to London fast. This general's a slick person to deal with."

I almost laughed at the absurdity of telling him this story, finally. I almost whispered the words, but said what I wanted in a serious enough tone. "Well, Rob, this is the story of a dejected nurse who got into an argument with someone and lost herself in the realm of spying. She was eventually caught by the Third Reich on a cold winter's night and sent away to a place where say doesn't exist, but really does." Rob looked up from his desk and widened his eyes. He took off his colonel's hat and joined me on the bed, holding me as soon as he sat down.

And for the first time, in a long time, I filled in the gaps Rob never knew in my insane misadventures after he left London and before I came to Stalag 13. It took a while, a ton of crying and the reliving of so much pain and nightmares, but I did it. I didn't realize that I _wanted_ to tell him until I ended. I stopped only when I told him of my arrival at Stalag 13 and the tense interrogation he never witnessed but has probably heard through the coffeepot.

Rob listened to me throughout the whole story and he never snapped at me again. He held me closer when I told him of what happened at that hill #36AP9ZG6I4OU, cried lightly (rare is the time he does that) when I told of Auschwitz and even yelled out in surprise of what Hochstetter did to me and Nancy in the hours before we arrived at Stalag 13. When I finished, I was still agitated and saddened by my revisit to this long journey. I was so perturbed that I buried my face in Rob's jacket and started to sniffle. I couldn't cry. I've done so much crying these past months. I want to _feel_ some happiness again and somehow, I did feel it. Just telling Rob about this lifted a weight off my shoulders no matter how depressed I still am about it.

Rob didn't talk to me for a long time after I ended my story. We were startled when the door knocked. It was only Kinch, thank G-d. "Colonel, do you have anything about that briefcase yet? Any plans?" Kinch said as he opened the door.

"Nothing yet, Kinch," Rob answered from my bunk. "This one's going to be a tough one to handle. Get through to London and find out more about this character. We may find some weakness in him that we can take advantage of. Find any interests, other than girls, alcohol and gambling, that he has, and maybe we could reenact them here in camp."

"Will do, Colonel," Kinch said as he closed the door.

Rob smiled and held me closer. "I'm glad that you told me this," he said. "Now, I have something I have to tell you now." I was startled when he helped me out of the bunk and led me to his window. He opened it and pointed in the direction of Barracks 14 (the roughhouse of all of the barracks here), which faced the fence. It was usually a great corner to escape for the lights barely shine there. Sometimes we had men escape from there.

"Nikki, you see where Barracks 14 and the fence meet?" Rob asked me as I stood there, breathless. "Nancy was shot there, outside the fence and buried under the trees a few feet away. Hochstetter ordered her to dig her own grave. Before she was finished, with her face to the Gestapo, she was shot by Hochstetter and his guard and was kicked in. A Luftwaffe guard made sure she was dead." Rob closed the window with a sorrowful sigh. "You can pay your respects later. Now, about this mission we have…"

Afterward, I couldn't concentrate for the love of my life. I was so surprised what I had received in exchange for telling my story. I jumped out of Rob's arms and run out of his quarters and our barracks and scampered for those barracks. I knew that I was in for some smoking, gambling and noise, but dealing with those barracks has never bothered me.

I guess the men there were expecting me for they let me through with no problems, giving me cigarettes. Nancy was revealed to me. I intend to keep the promise I had silently vowed months before. She is coming home with me, but instead she's going to be in a box. She is getting the respect she never received in the last months of her life. This much I owe her. She is my mentor before and I feel her now, whispering to me what to do. And tomorrow night, I plan to find her body and send her home.

For now, it is a goodbye to Nancy. Someday, I will to see you, not too soon, I hope. We can all wish for a long life after the war. I want to live my life out and reflect upon the mistakes I have made and what I can do right. I think I have seen the real beauty around me and those gentle voices have already called to me what they wished for me to do, and that is to live and love. I have found my two feet, just as she said to, and have already walked down the path I wanted to head out towards. I found love and want it keep it that way, safe and sound. The storm is gone for now and today, I can dream of an end to the war, if we can help it.

* * *

**Afterward:**** Again, thank you for reading these stories. I do plan to keep the character going into the "Allies" roll into the gates of Stalag 13. Although C.B.S. has never shown this part of the war, my imagination is already reeling into the future of the Heroes and this new character and the next story is already becoming hard to write. I do appreciate all the feedback. Again, thank you for reading these stories!**


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